


An Impossible Fate

by spellwovennight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angel!Claudia, Blow Jobs, Canon Death, Coming Untouched, GuardianAngel!Allison, GuardianAngel!Stiles, Kinda, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Minor Braeden/Derek Hale, Minor Derek Hale/Paige, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Pining, Police Officer Derek Hale, Stilinski Family Feels, Therapy, growing up fic, implied face fucking, mentions of abuse, mentions of depression, sensitive wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwovennight/pseuds/spellwovennight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets miraculously appointed as a Guardian Angel after his first few months in Heaven.  His charge?  Derek Hale, a young and bright child that becomes Stiles' best friend.  Over the course of the years, Stiles' feeling morph into something more.  Many years later, in response to Derek's proposal to Braeden, Stiles appears in anger, and gets stuck on Earth, appearing as a human.  Will Stiles be able convince Derek the error of his ways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Bite Time and the Sundays at Tiffany's prompt (A child's guardian angel reappears in the flesh when they're an adult, about to get married - and the angel claims to be in love with them.). 
> 
> All the thanks to my fellow Sterekers/Sprinter's Circle in helping stay motivated to finish - and helping with certain aspects. 
> 
> M for the Indiana Jones references and Carrie for the Peru and archeologist information, specifically (I swear I was going to write down who helped me with what, but alas, I forgot). 
> 
> Thanks to ambysplash for the beta read and LiteraryOblivion for her editing ways (up to chapter 7 is newly edited)

**Stiles**

Stiles can’t help but fidget as he tries to pay attention to Christopher’s lecture of the day.  He wiggles his shoulders a little and his small, dull copper wings twitch, causing a small breeze at irregular intervals.

Christopher stops talking and turns his stern and weathered face to Stiles.  Stiles’ wings twitch for a beat or two more before he desists.  Christopher’s lips pull down into a frown and returns to talk about something.  Stiles stopped paying attention about two minutes into Christopher’s lesson.  He thinks Christopher’s just going over the rules, again.

_Be careful when you watch the humans.  Don’t watch too much or get too attached._

_No going visiting Earth without permission._

_Always listen to the Elders._

_Absolutely no flying is allowed on Cloud 9._

Not that the last one matters anyways.  Stiles’ wings aren’t strong enough yet to carry him very far, let alone from cloud to cloud.  He’s only been in Heaven for a few months by his reckoning and young by an angel’s standard. 

Stiles sighs and adjusts to scuff his foot against the floor instead, rubbing off the opaque cloud layer.  He looks down to the world below where the humans lived.  There is a small, brown area surrounded by grass with equipment that have children climbing all over it.  Stiles frowns in confusion and rubs more of the cloud away, trying to see more.  The children are all running around with huge smiles on their faces.  Stiles tunes his ears to the scene below, and high-pitched screams and giggles register.  He tries to fit the objects with phrases and stories he’s heard from the other angels.

He thinks of his grandfather telling him stories of his mom, Claudia, when she was young and alive.  Stiles bites down on his lip in concentration.  A park, he thinks, is what the place is called.  That’s where Grandfather used to take Claudia every Sunday afternoon, where they would play outside, until she was thirteen.

Stiles watches wistfully and tries to focus in on the scene even more.  Stiles has never been to a park.  Or played with other children.  He has done nothing at all on the Earth.  Stiles and his mother died during childbirth.  He has never even gotten to breath real air.  He was denied his time as a human and didn’t understand the world at all.

It fascinated him.

Since they arrived in Heaven, he stuck close to his mother and met other family members.  He’s learned a bit by listening to them, and Claudia finds a scene on Earth every day to explain to him.  But, there’s still so much he doesn’t understand.  A lot of desires and motivations that are present forces on Earth that are dormant or not as strong in Heaven and its angels.

His mother showed him a scene of a starving orphan the other day.  Stiles couldn’t understand why she was crying.  Stiles didn’t even know how to cry.  His mother explained it was because she was in pain from starvation, sad because she was lonely, and frightened because she was going to die soon if she didn’t get any food.  She described them in detail, but pain, hunger, sadness, and fear were all just concepts to Stiles.  Concepts he couldn’t really grasp.

He’s always eager to learn more about these concepts and the humans; so, Stiles concentrates in on the park even more.  He refocuses his eyes to see even closer.  As he does, his sight starts to catch up with his hearing, and all of his senses zoom in on the scene below all at once.  Christopher’s voice and the blush colored clouds of Heaven fade away completely.  Instead, he feels like he’s standing right amongst the children.  He can’t help but smile as he watches two kids streak by him, their hair streaming behind them.  One’s yelling and the other is laughing.  They both have pure joy on their faces.  Stiles feels an odd twang in his chest as he looks at their faces.  He might not know how dread can seep into one’s veins and make one feel sick for days, but he doesn’t know what happiness feels like either.  Not true, unadulterated happiness like those children do.

Heaven is much too peaceful for that.

Stiles continues to watch when,

“STILINSKI,”

reverberates in his mind and jolts him out of the scene and back onto Cloud 2 where Christopher is standing directly in front of him.  His usual air of toughness is up a notch with his mouth set tightly, but his eyes are narrowed in confusion more than anger.

Stiles trips backwards in shock to coming back to Heaven too quickly and having Christopher’s face right up and personal, and he falls, landing heavily on his butt.

Stiles didn’t move but just sat there nervously.  He didn’t like the way Christopher was looking at him.

Christopher’s cyan eyes are on his again, assessing him.

“Technically,” Christopher finally says, his frown deepening even further. “That is not against any of the commands.  If only, because it is extraordinary difficult to master without training.”

Stiles blinks up at him, totally lost.  “Master what?”

Christopher ignores him.  “Was that the first time you’ve done that?”

“Done what?”  Stiles asks, this time irritation slipping out as he speaks.  He looks around at his fellow angels.  They are all fairly new to the order of Heaven, too, and the looks on their faces vary from confused to surprised.

“All I did was look down at children below and focused on them as you taught us to.”

Christopher stares at him, unmoving for a minute more.  Then, he offers his hand out to Stiles.

Stiles cautiously takes it, and Christopher pulls him up and close to his body once Stiles is standing.

He doesn’t let go of Stiles’ hand.

“You managed to project to Earth.  We’re lucky you didn’t manage a full corporalization.”

Stiles eyes grow wide.  He did what?  His mother has yet to be able to project, although her parents have been teaching her.  She desperately wants to project to her husband, Stiles’ father.  Projection is where the mind exists in the corporeal world and is able to observe as if they are really there.  The physical body remains in Heaven, in stasis.  As Christopher stated, it is allowed, but it is only older angels that are able to accomplish it.  Corporalization or physical embodiment in Earth without permission, however, is against the laws.  Corporalization is most commonly achieved by flying through the Gate of Heaven and traveling to the physical realm, but select few can also achieve it through projection as the next step, to make their corporal body appear.

“Yeah.  Lucky,” Stiles babbles nervously.  “Because that’s, uh, against the rules.  The physical corporalization thing.  That I didn’t do.”

“No,” Christopher says quietly, finally releasing his grip on Stiles.  He steps back and looks at the rest of group.  “Dismissed!” he barks out before his large, dark olive green wings spread out behind him, and he takes off toward Cloud 33.

Stiles watches him fly for a few seconds before deciding to forget about the whole thing.  So he was a fast learner; there wasn’t anything to worry about.

 

* * *

 

Stiles is playing with the baby clouds, smoothing his long fingers along their fluffy bodies and reforming them into different shapes.  He’s already made a rocket, a wolf, a man with a really large nose, and a replica of his own wings, which he sent down into the sky, visible for humans to see.

He’s trying to shape a ridiculous hair-do on a baby when someone clears his or her throat behind him.

Stiles startles, his right hand taking off a huge chunk of the hair and his left hand losing its grip so the cloud teeters off into the sky, out of reach.  But, Stiles doesn’t give it much thought.  When he loses his cloud, he catches sight of Christopher and his mother.

He quickly hides his hands behind his back, trying to hide the faint dust residue from the clouds on his hands.  He smiles brightly and tries to look as innocent as possible.

His mother is smiling but is giving him that look.  He’s encountered it so many times already.  The look that she’s not angry or disappointed in him, but it’s still a reprimand.  Stiles thinks of it as the “You Didn’t Do Wrong But You Didn’t Do Right” look.

Christopher, however, does not look amused.  Not that Stiles has ever seen the Elder Angel look amused.  Ever.  No, he looks exactly like Stiles saw him last, cross and stern with his mouth turned down tightly.

“It is not considered proper to use the small clouds of this region as your own playthings,”  Christopher states, his voice calm and unwavering.

“Oh, really?” Stiles says, licking his lips nervously.  “Who knew?  Not me!  But now, I do.  Know. That is.”

Christopher turns to Stiles’ mother.  “I don’t approve of this.”

His mother smiles sweetly in return, but her eyes glitter dangerously.  Stiles knows it’s not as sweet as it looks.  “In what I’ve understood, it’s not for you to approve, is it?”

Christopher’s jaw clenches, and he turns back to Stiles.  “You are being summoned.  And as one of an unborn and an angel of prepubescent wisdom, your guardian, or in this case your mother, is required to be in attendance.”

“Summoned to where?” Stiles asks incredulously.

 

* * *

 

Stiles stands in the middle of Cloud 33 with his mother.  The Elder Council encircles them completely. 

Elder Deaton states Stiles’ records and then examines his character.

“An Unborn.

“Stilinski, Przemyslaw.”

Both Stiles and his mother flinch at his first name.  Apparently, his father had thought it was a good idea to name him after his maternal grandfather in memorial for Claudia.  His mother thought it was sweet but had laughed long and hard when she had found out his name.

“Called Stiles.

“Has acquired nine warnings from seven separate Elders.”

Stiles winces at the mention of his transgressions.  He never broke the rules, but he never followed what was expected of him either.  His mother said he had too much curiosity and too much energy to be cooped up in Heaven.

“Has been an angel for five months and recently, and accidentally, managed to project upon a playground of school children.”

There is a rush of voices around the room after it is stated.

Deaton quiets them quickly with a quick jerky of his wings, but all the Elders are looking at Stiles curiously, surprised at the young one’s talent.

Deaton continues talking, addressing the entire council.  “Although Stilinski has shown trouble adapting to the Heaven standards, he is not without talent.  As an unborn and to be so young, he is lacking in comprehension of humans, our lives, and, hence, the meaning of Heaven.  Therefore, I suggest to train Stilinski and promote him to a Guardian Angel.”

Hushed whispering and raised eyebrows happen again at that announcement.  Claudia clutches onto Stiles’ hand tightly, and Stiles clings back, desperately.  None of this makes any sense. Guardian Angels are some of the few actually allowed to corporalize, but they are all ones that have earned their position through their works in Heaven or their actions on Earth.  Stiles does not fit into either category.    

Deaton ignores the raised voices around him and speaks with a little bit power in his voice, causing everyone to fall silent. “This may be unorthodox, but it will be a learning situation for Stilinski and lead to him becoming a better member of the Heaven community.  It will also provide him an outlet to deal with theenergy that has earned him his warnings.”

“I second this proposal,” an angel with steel grey wings speaks out.

“And, I,” adds one with cobalt blue wings.

Deaton nods at each of them in turn.  “All opposed please take a step back.”

Stiles sees Christopher and a few others take a step back from the circle, but the majority remains unmoved.

“Then, it is declared.  Stilinski shall be trained as a Guardian Angel.”  Stiles’ mother’s hand tightens even harder around his, and Deaton’s eyes flick over to Christopher.  “Allison Argent shall be his mentor.”

Christopher nods in recognition, and Stiles wonders if they are related.  He realizes he has no idea what Christopher’s last name is.  He has always just been Christopher.   

Deaton smiles, satisfied with the outcome and then beckons to Stiles.  “Stilinski, approach.”

Stiles shuffles forward awkwardly, suddenly much more aware of the eyes on him now that he is without the company of his mother.  He stops about a foot in front of Deaton, unsure if he should continue.

Deaton pulls out a long silver chain where the symbol of the holy trinity hangs.  “Stiles,” Deaton says softly. “Touch this, and it will be as the Lord says.”

Stiles tries not to flinch at the mention of the Lord.  The whole concept that the Lord has allowed so many to die and under horrible circumstances or without living at all, like himself, and still be just is not something Stiles can agree with, but in this case he doesn’t ask questions.  Learning to be a Guardian Angel and be able to actually visit Earth is an exciting prospect.

Stiles lifts his right hand and lightly grazes the top of the cross.  Images invade his mind.  A male being born to parents of dark hair and strong stances.  A young girl is with them with a similar complexion.  Different scenes race across Stiles’ mind.  The parents feeding the baby, him fussing, the girl learning how to hold him properly, him learning to crawl then walk, his first laugh and his first words.  The last vision is of the child as a toddler with dark hair grown long and into his green eyes as he lifts his arms for his mother to pick him up.

“Derek Hale.”  Stiles hears Deaton say has he blinks back to reality.  “It is as the Lord says.”

 

* * *

 

Allison Argent is a very pretty girl of eighteen years in appearance.  Luckily, she is not as stern as her father, who was, in fact, Christopher.  After his induction as a Guardian Angel, Allison did not leave his side for days.  She taught him everything he needed to know.  The first stage of his lessons was done from Heaven.  They catalogued Derek Hale carefully and watched him grow.  Stiles practiced projecting and learning about the potential threats to Derek’s safety. 

By the time Derek turned four, Stiles had progressed to corporalization.  He could only accomplish corporalization through projection because his wings were still not strong enough to fly the distance to Earth.  Corporalization came just as easy to him as projection did.  What he had trouble with was remaining invisible to humans.  It took a large amount of effort and concentration.  Eventually, Allison started to let Stiles guard on his own and started to focus more on her own charge, Scott McCall, who was of the same age and town as Derek Hale.

Stiles found that he really enjoyed his Guardian Angel duties.  He was able to learn as Derek learned, slowly understanding what it meant to be human.  There’s no special bond or psychic connection between a Guardian and his ward, but Stiles fancied that sometimes he could feel like Derek could; although it was still difficult for him to understand certain desires, like greed.  He thought that Derek was of a good sort.  A calm but bright-eyed child that loved the attention of his family.  He was happiest to be smushed on the couch between his parents and sister and enjoying their company.

Stiles and Allison had become close friends through his training.  He learned to see more of her father in her by her deep dedication to protecting the humans, but she still retained her smiles and good humor.   Luckily for them, as Scott and Derek grew, they became close friends.  Originally, they started off as rivals.  Derek and Scott were always voted as team captains and put in charge of group projects.  Eventually, their first grade teacher forced them to work on a project together and they finally learned to get along (not without some stubborn arguments first and prodding from their parents).  

Stiles’ job is easy.  Fun.  Until now.  Derek is just eight years old and at the hospital suffering from meningitis.  They caught it only after Derek had a seizure, one if its side effects.  Stiles had been there to cushion the fall when Derek started to seize, lightly pillowing Derek’s head as he collapsed on the ground.  It was the first time Stiles had to step into action.

Now, Stiles paces the tiny hospital room Derek is staying in, taking care not to walk into the other people in the room.  He has been keeping his eyes and ears open, waiting to hear anything that could be Derek, and doing rounds around the hospital to see if he can pick anything up.  Allison assures him that he’s doing all he can, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

His charge is rarely alone with his various family members visiting.  His parents barely ever leave.  But, it’s in the moments when his parents are asleep, and Derek is scared awake that kills Stiles.  Derek isn’t a dumb child.  He knows he’s sick and that it’s bad that he’s in the hospital.  Derek feels awful, almost delirious from the fever and nauseous from the headaches, and he’s scared.

Stiles watches Derek that night.  Derek’seyes squeeze shut like it can shut out the pain, but his sporadic breathing makes it obvious that he’s awake.

Stiles hates it.  He’s Derek’s Guardian Angel, but he’s absolutely helpless.  What good can just observing actually do?  Stiles yanks his hair in frustration as he watches Derek suffer.  There must be something, anything he can do.  He wished being an angel came with some abilities like the ones the superheros possess that Derek and Scott like so much.  But, even they can’t do much about sickness.  At the very least, Stiles wishes he could take away Derek’s pain.

Then, Derek starts to cry.

Well, it really starts with some shivering.  His small body shuddering as it pulls closer in on itself and his stuffed animal, Wolfy, gets smushed between his torso and his limbs.  The sniffles come next.  The young child tries to stop from crying, but it’s a hard task for anyone, let alone one so young.  Soon, silent tears start dripping down his face, slow at first and then gushing down his face like waterfalls.  That’s when the helpless sobs start, being pulled from his body with each wrecked breath.

Stiles loses it.

“Shhh, hey little dude, don’t do that,”  he says frantically in hushed tones.

He is so caught up in Derek’s pain that he forgets himself completely.  Unthinkably, he loses control of his ability to remain invisible to humans, and he approaches Derek’s hospital bed in concern. 


	2. The Meeting

**Derek**

Derek’s eyes flicker open at the unfamiliar voice.  Standing in his hospital room is a tall, skinny man moving closer and closer to him.  Derek’s eyes widen in fear, scared of the stranger in his room.  He wants to freeze and be able to become invisible, or even pull the blanket up to hide underneath, but he’s crying too hard to do any of those things.  Instead, he clings even tighter to Wolfy, grasping at any comfort he can.

The stranger makes eye contact with Derek and then freezes.  His brown eyes mirroring Derek’s as they become as wide as saucers.

“Derek,” he says softly.  “Can you hear me?  Can you see me?”

Derek barely manages to nod his head.

“Shit,” the Stranger says as he looks down at his own body.

Derek takes that time to further observe the stranger.  He has unruly brown hair and has lots of really large freckles.  And then, Derek’s heart stumbles all over itself and his breathing hitches even more.

The stranger has wings on his back!  They look just like the wings on drawings of angels but his has a weird color to them.  They’re almost pink, but more orange.

“Are you here to take me to Heaven?”  Derek manages to gasp out, fearfully, and blinks out a few more tears.  He feels really cold all of a sudden.  He doesn’t want to die.

The stranger’s eyes brows raise in alarm.  “No, no, no, no, no,” he says frantically waving his hands in front of him.

“Really?”  Derek whispers not knowing why else an angel would be there with him.

“I swear!”  the angel replies.

“But you’re an angel?” Derek questions, his eyes glued to his wings.  At the mention of angel, they flutter, widening out a bit before settling back into position.

“Yeah,” the angel admits.  He looks about the room and then back at Derek.  Derek watches as he sighs out and his frantic energy leaves with him.  “You want to know a secret?”

Derek nods his head. The pain is momentarily forgotten in the wonderment, and the fear seeps out of his body at the assurance that he’s an actual angel.  Angels were good and not bad.  Not really strangers.  Stories taught Derek that he could trust him.  Derek doesn’t tense this time when the angel approaches.  He drops down on the floor, his wings almost knocking over the bedside lamp.  He rights it with a sheepish smile and turns back to Derek.

“I’m your angel, Derek.  I’m your Guardian Angel.”

“You protect me?” Derek asks quietly.

The angel nods.  “I’m trying to.”  He reaches out and wipes a few of the tears off of Derek’s face.  The angel’s fingertips feel light and cool against Derek’s overly hot skin.

“Are you going to protect me from the evil germs?  The menitus – mentigis – mena -“  Derek’s face screws up in a pout, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he tries to remember how to pronounce it.

The angel interrupts his efforts,  “Meningitis.”

Derek nods and repeats,  “Meningitis.”

“Like I said, dude, I’m trying my best.”  This time the angel picks up the box of tissues off the nightstand and gets to work cleaning Derek’s face.

Derek sniffles, getting any remaining crying out of his system.  He waits until the angel isn’t scratching his face with tissues before he speaks.

“That’s why you’re here, though, right?  To protect me?”

The angel smiles.  “Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”  He looks down at the tissues before he tosses them in to the trash bin.  “But, I can guard you from more than just sickness.”

Derek rolls away from the angel slightly, so he’s laying flat on his back.  He doesn’t like the sound of that.  “Do you need to protect me from other things?”

Derek wonders if he’s in more danger than just the sickness and thinks of the things he’s seen in cartoons.  Would a piano fall on his head?  Or maybe he could get shocked and have his hair stand up all funny?

“I just meant that I can help with the other things, so you’re not scared and you don’t cry.  Maybe you can actually sleep,“ the angel tells him.  His voice drops as he continues,  “Yeah.  Helping.  That’s what I’m doing.  Guarding my charge from the horrors of being human.  It’s totally what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Derek frowns in confusion at the last part.  It didn’t make any sense to Derek.

“You promise I’m not going to die?”  he asks, rolling back towards the angel.

“Not yet,” he promises.

Derek gives the first smile in weeks.  “Good.”

The angel glances over to his sleeping parents.  “How about you get some sleep, buddy?”

Derek yawns and feels ready for bed.  His headache is almost gone, and he’s actual relaxed instead of scared and confused.  “Will you tell me a bedtime story?”  he murmurs sleepily, his eyes already blinking shut.  He can hear the angel chuckle in response.

“Why not?  Once upon a time, there was a warrior princess.  Her name was Allison.  Allison was required to wear dresses.  A long one that washard to move in, but very pretty.  She hated them most of the time.  She stole her father’s old trousers to wear underneath. . .”

Derek falls asleep picturing Disney’s Belle in pants and with a sword fighting off the wolves outside the Beast’s castle on her own.

 

* * *

 

When Derek wakes up the following morning, the angel is spread out on the floor between his bed and the nightstand.  His limbs are star fished in every direction.  He had managed to sneak a leg behind Derek’s bed and an arm behind the nightstand.  Even one of his wings is partially opening, threatening to knock over the lamp again.  He’s not asleep, like Derek thought he was.  No, Derek can see the angel’s eyes resting on him.

“You’re still here,” Derek yawns, surprised.

“Yup.  Still here.  Guardian Angel, remember?”

Derek sits up, letting his blankets fall into his lap.  “Does that mean you’ll be here all the time?”

The angel nods sleepily.  “Most of the time,” he amends.

“Oh,” Derek says, disappointed.  “What if I need you?”

The angel moans softly.  “I-just.  Hold on,” he mutters to Derek before stretching out his limbs and his wings.  The wings thud against the wall as they spread out, but it’s not his left wing that knocks the lamp over, but his left elbow instead.

There’s a loud crashing sound, and the angel jerks his head to the scene of the crime in horror before he looks over to Derek’s parents who are starting to wake up from the noise.

Derek doesn’t even have time to tell him that it’s okay, before the angel screws his eyes closed in concentration and disappears.

Derek gasps in surprise, looking at the wall where the wings were just a second ago, but he sees nothing but the broken glass of the lamp to indicate there had been anyone there at all.

“Derek?”  He hears his mom ask as she sits up from her cot.  Most of her brown hair escaped from her ponytail while she slept and hangs covering her face.  She pushes it back and looks at the lamp.

“Sweetie, are you alright?”  she asks, getting up.

“I, but,” Derek says frowning, already missing his new friend.  “There was someone there.”

His mom looks at the window and then back to Derek.  “It must just have been a shadow.  You’ve been jittery lately.  How are you feeling?”  She comes over and sits down next to him on the bed, and touches his face.

“Better,” Derek mumbles.   It’s become routine for his mom to check his forehead for his fever every morning since he’s been in the hospital.  He doesn’t even bother to fight it anymore.

“Really?” she says, shocked.  “You haven’t said that since we’ve gotten here.  You still feel warm, though.  I’m going to check in with the nurse.”  She gets up and grabs her sweater off her cot.  “Stay in bed, sweetie.  I don’t want you to step on any of the glass, okay?”

Derek nods, and his mom leans over to kiss him on the cheek before leaving the room.

As soon as she’s gone, the angel reappears.

“Wow, where did you go?” Derek asks, trying to get out of bed to make sure he’s real, but all the pain he’s forgotten in the excitement of the angel comes rushing back as he tries to move.  He flinches and chokes back a sob.

“Woah, hold on little dude.” The angel says stopping him before he gets any further.  “Back on the bed.  Broken glass, remember?”  The angel waves his long arms around until Derek’s back on the bed.

Derek tries to settle back into a comfortable position, but the pain won’t go away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?  Are you okay?”  the angel asks, concerned.

“Hurts,” Derek whimpers, carefully trying to rearrange his body.

The angel frowns and pulls Derek’s blankets up and over his body.  His tucks them underneath Derek just like his mother does and smooths them out.  Derek watches as the angel’s fingers continuously twitch on the fabric.  They never stop moving.

“How about,” the angel says, removing his hand from the bed. “I tell you another story to distract you from the pain.”

Derek remembers the story about the warrior princess from last night.  He likes her.  She had stood up to her family and saved people.  He wants to hear another story, but. . .

“You’re not going to go away again, are you?” Derek asks.     

The angel hesitates.  “I might have to disappear again, but I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll be staying right here, watching over you.”

Derek frowns.  “How can you disappear and be here at the same time?”

“I go invisible!” the angel shares excitedly.

“Wow,” Derek breathes out.  “That’s so cool!”

The angel nods.  “Right, so if your dad,” they both glance over to where his father is snoring lightly on the ground next to the cot,  “wakes up or another adult comes in, I’m going to have to go invisible.  Okay?  I can only let you see me.”

“But what about the story?”

“I’ll finish it later.  Do you want to hear more about Allison the Warrior Princess?”

Derek nods eagerly.

The angel starts speaking of Allison’s heroics in a soft but excited voice.  Derek enjoys the way he tells the story, making the voices different and giving sound effects.  He can hear how the angel gets into it, giving the story excitement

Allison is facing a terrible, poisonous snake when the angel falls silent.

“Gotta go now, Derek,” he whispers before disappearing.

“Bye, angel,” Derek whispers back.

There’s a chortle of laughter right where Derek saw the angel before.  Derek’s glad to know he’s still there.

“Call me Stiles,” the angel whispers into Derek’s ear.

“Okay, Stiles,” Derek says, smiling happily.

His mom and a nurse walk in at that moment.

“What was that, sweetie?” his mom asks him as she crosses over to the bed.

Derek shakes his head.  “Nothing.  Just a story."


	3. Reality Check

**Stiles**

 

Stiles is watching the nurse and Derek’s mother do the routine check-up on Derek when he hears someone calling his name in the distance.  He grimaces as the call gets louder.  He has a feeling it’s about the last twelve hours.  Not only has Stiles visually appeared to Derek, but he also engaged him in conversation and told him the truth.  It violated several different heavily suggested guidelines that one should follow as a Guardian Angel.

 He looks over to Derek and thinks that he looks better than he has in weeks.  He’s obviously still sick, but the tired, pinch expression on his face is gone, looking more relaxed.  He might not be happy, but he’s close to it.  The nurse and his mother are close by and there’s really no reason Stiles can’t leave Derek alone with them for a few moments.  He really wishes there was, so he had some excuse to put off the angry faces in Heaven.

Instead, Stiles backs up into a corner and focuses on returning to just the mind state.  It’s always been harder for him to return from corporalization to projection than the other way around.  Allison thinks he has too much life energy, undoubtedly left over from his life unlived, to be contained in a projection form.  It’s also why she thinks he has such difficulty remaining invisible to the human’s eyes.

After a few moments, Stiles can’t feel the air on his skin or the ground underneath his feet, and knows he’s returned to his projection state.  He slowly tunes out the talking of Mrs. Hale and the nurse and the rest of the hospital.  When he opens up his eyes again, he’s back in Heaven looking directly at Allison.  Her bronze wings are spread out in agitation, and her normally smiling face is closed lipped.  It’s one of those few rare moments that she reminds him of her father.

He grins at her feigning nonchalance.  “Hey, Allison.  How’s it going?  Doing well today?  Your wings are looking especially bright.”

“Don’t even bother, Stiles,” she responds, not fazed by his remarks.  “What the hell have you been up to?”

“Has your father heard you talk like that?” Stiles asks, ignoring the question.  “I don’t think he would approve.  I don’t think the rest of the Elders would approve either.  They’re very sensitive about that word.  Which makes sense, I guess, because it reflects the very –“

“Stiles,” Allison interrupts flatly.

“Yeah?”

Her eyes narrow and her wings twitch slightly, which alarms him.  She has great control of her wings, normally, and they don’t respond to her emotions like the rest of the angels’ wings do.  The fact that she’s feeling intense enough that they’re moving without her permission sobers Stiles up a little bit.

Most of the stories he had told Derek where true.  There were a few embellishments here and there or a lot of omission of the true details, but the stories was similar.   She had lived just over a hundred years ago, in the Victorian Era.  She had been expected to play the role of a proper lady, and she was content to until she was of age and had gotten lost in the cities of Paris where some men accosted her.  They had been interrupted by a brave passer-by before they could do too much damage, but she had arrived home mussed and with bruises forming.  With Christopher working in India and her mother not approving of the state of her daughter, she was sent away to a home where other women who were victims of similar circumstance lived.

Allison had not been content to live hidden at the boarding house nor did she want to be the victim ever again.  She started sneaking out of the house to find people to teach her to fight.  Her eyes were opened to the world around her.  She came across all the people that her mother did not approve of and began to self-educate.  Her real adventures began after Christopher returned from India and was horrified about what had happened to his daughter.  Allison convinced her father that it would be safer outside of the country and went with him on his next trip to Africa, which is where most of her adventures happened.

In order to survive, she had learned tremendous amounts of skill and self-control.  Her fury was of the calm persuasion, but equally deadly.  When she was on the war path, which Stiles had luckily only seen once so far, she reminded Stiles of the ninja characters that the children in America were so fond of.  And right now, it scares Stiles that she was angry enough to lose even the slightest bit of that self-control.

“What else was I supposed to do, Ally?”  he asks imploringly.  “I didn’t mean for it to happen.  I didn’t even realize it had happened until it was too late.  And he was in pain.  And scared.  He’s a child, and you’re the one that taught me that children of all people don’t deserve to feel that way. “  Stiles could see her stance loosen up a bit, her wings starting to drop as he talked, so he plows on.  “And we’re supposed to be Guardian Angels.  To guard them.  Protect them and keep them from harm.  And I know we focus on the physical stuff.  Always keeping an eye out when they cross the street or ride in the car, but there’s so much more to protect from their body.  And I didn’t get that before, the way you guys fuss over the psychological damage.   I know you were going to teach me that lesson at some point, the psychological stuff, but I can’t ignore it now.  Especially when he’s crying himself to sleep.   It’s not right.”

Allison sighs deeply, the rest of her anger leaving her limbs.  For the first time, Stiles actually sees her death age in her as she wearily lowers herself to her knees on the ground.  Stiles plops down next to her, crossed-legged.

“You’re not wrong,” she tells him.  “We do try to protect their minds.  We try to steer them away from bad decisions or people that aren’t healthy forthem.  Or we try to guide them towards people that can help them.  It’s the hardest part of being a Guardian Angel, because it’s not simple nor is it guaranteed to work.  But, you’re still not supposed to get directly involved, Stiles.  It’s dangerous.”

“I know,” Stiles admits quietly.  “Or, I do in theory.  And, I didn’t mean to, Ally.  I promise.”

Allison shakes her head.  “You’re not going to be able to stay away, now, are you.”  It wasn’t a question.

“I told him I’d always be there,”  Stiles says thinking back to the last conversation he had with Derek before he left him.

“And, you will be.”

“I can’t ignore him, Ally,”  Stiles admits softly.  “It’s been killing me to do it, even before I had even interacted with him.”

“It’s dangerous,” she responds, repeating her earlier thought.

“I know –“

“No, you don’t,” she says, not even looking at Stiles anymore, but lost in her own thoughts.  “It’s not just about the humans.  It’s dangerous for us.  It’s so easy to get attached.  We always will, but once we interact with them – “ she breaks off, obviously thinking of an earlier charge of hers.   She finally makes eye contact with him.  “You’ll break it off with him when you’re supposed to.  When you need to.  When it starts becoming too dangerous for him.  I know you well enough, that I’m not worried about that, but I am worried about you.  It’s going to be hard, Stiles.”

“I can’t just abandon him.”

Allison looks at him with sad eyes.  “I know.”

 

* * *

 

It becomes a routine.  Stiles shows up every night after Derek’s parents are passed out and tells Derek a story before he falls asleep.  It doesn’t take more than a few days before Derek starts adding to the stories or asking more questions about the warrior princess.  Then Stiles starts appearing whenever Derek’s parents aren’t around.  Stiles asks Derek to tell him stories during the day, and Derek talks about the rope swing by the creek or when his team beat Scott’s at dodge ball in a close call.  He even tells Stiles about his stuffed wolf and lets him hold it.  Only Hales are allowed to touch it. 

Stiles feels helpful again, because he can actively make Derek feel better.  He has always been learning from Derek, but now that he has a chance to speak with the kid, he learns so much more.  Laughter isn’t new to Stiles, but for the first time he can actually feel it resonate through his body, like when Derek tells him about the time Laura fell off her chair when she was bragging how she was the most graceful ballerina in her class, and Derek had laughed so hard he shot milk through his nose.  Stiles laughs, his whole body shaking, and he just can’t stop.  It’s so infectious, that Derek starts giggling at him.

Stiles wonders if that is what it feels like to be alive.

* * *

 **Derek**  

 

Derek loves his new friend.  He’s funny and always asking all these questions.  Derek doesn’t always understand how he doesn’t know about things, like how awesome silly putty is to play with and how weird the texture feels between his fingers.  Derek likes explaining things to his angel.  He likes the way Stiles listens to him and trusts his opinion and his words.  It makes him feel smart.  It’s almost easy to forget that he’s stuck in a hospital.  The pain is easy to forget when Stiles is around, as long as Derek doesn’t move too much.  He hasn’t felt afraid or cried since the first night Stiles visited him.

It’s not a surprise to either of them that Derek starts to make a speedy recovery.  Even though the doctors explain that the antibiotics finally had kicked in and made things worse and then rapidly made things better, Derek firmly believes it’s because of Stiles.

Derek is overjoyed to finally be home and allowed back at school a few weeks later.  He’s worried at first that Stiles will disappear, now that he’s not in immediate danger, but he doesn’t.

He shows up before Derek goes to sleep every night, and they continue to exchange stories.  Now that Derek’s back at school, he tells Stiles about his friends, Scott, Isaac and Lydia, and about how much homework he has to catch up on.  After Stiles mentions that he thinks Derek’s homework’s interesting, he starts doing his homework in his room instead of at the kitchen table with his parents around, and they start doing it together, both learning and making mistakes.

It doesn’t take long before Derek thinks of Stiles as his best friend.  He doesn’t keep any secrets from Stiles, and he’s always happy to see him.  To the rest of the world, he never purposely avoids talking about Stiles.  Originally, it was a little weird.  A Guardian Angel just showing up in his room.  Now, it’s something that Derek forgets sometimes, and he mentions Stiles to Scott without thinking.  Scott doesn’t think it’s weird, and neither does Derek.  It doesn’t take long before all the kids in his class knows he has a friend named Stiles, and all the adults think he has an imaginary friend named Stiles.

His parents worry a little about it at first.  They think that an eight year old is a little old to be having his first imaginary friend, but the school’s guidance counselor, Miss Morrell assures them it’s just a dealing mechanism from all the stress he’s gone through from the sickness and trying to re-adjust at school.  They arrange for Derek to go see Miss Morrell once a week.  Neither Derek or Stiles thinks it’s weird.  He just goes and talks to the young lady about his week and how school’s going.  Sometimes she even asks about Stiles.

When Stiles is still around a year later,  Miss Morrell is worried that the meningitis had lasting side effects that they weren’t aware of, and Derek starts getting tested at the hospital.

After Derek’s third test and before his fourth, he speaks out loud knowing Stiles can hear him.  “You promised you would tell me if I was going to die, remember.”

“You’re not dying.  You’re not even sick,” Stiles responds, exasperated into Derek’s left ear.  “I’m not even sure what they’re doing.  Maybe it’s just a check-up after the meningitis.   Like when you go to the doctor every year before school starts.”

“I don’t like it.  It stinks.  I don’t like being poked and prodded by needles and people and weird machines,”  Derek mutters, lifting his feet up onto the bench and hugging them close to his chest.  He feels a small squeeze on his left shoulder.

“I know. I’m sorry, little dude.”  He hears.

“It’s not your fault,” Derek grumbles.

Derek gets, what he thinks, are random tests, during the rest of the school year.  He’s put on a strict diet and told to take real vitamins, which makes Derek sad.  He really likes his gummy vitamins compared to the new hard ones that taste like chalk.

Just before he turns ten, his parents take him to a psychologist.  The first session is fun and weird.  He takes some tests, but they’re not like the ones he takes at school or the ones he’s had the hospital.  Some of them are fun like fitting shapes into boxes and matching color things.  They’re kinda like puzzles.  The other half is a lot of questions.  Especially about Stiles.  Derek doesn’t like the way the doctor talks to him about Stiles.  It makes him feel like he’s in trouble, so he starts to redirect the Stiles questions the best he can, but the doctor just frowns at him.

When Derek asks his parents about it on the car ride home, they tell him that they’re worried about him, and that isn’t he a little old for Stiles?

Derek frowns the entire way home, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

You’re never too old for a Guardian Angel, are you?


	4. Goodbye

**Stiles**

Stiles waits until Derek and his parents are safe at home after the psychologist appointment before he returns to Heaven.  The first thing he does is hurry to find Allison.

She’s on Cloud 9 talking to Danny, another Guardian Angel.  Unlike most Guardians, he has two charges.  Ethan and Aiden Cladwell, twins.  They’re older than Stiles’ and Allison’s charges, about to graduate high school.  Allison says that they’ll assign another angel once they turn eighteen or decide on life post high school.  Chances are they won’t be attending the same college or choose the same path.  Stiles can’t imagine giving up his charge or having to choose like that.  His heart seizes a little bit when he thinks of the possibility of having to give up Derek.

With the thought of Derek, Stiles rushes over not caring that he’s interrupting them.

“Why do they want to get rid of me?” he nearly shouts as he gets close to them.

They stop talking immediately and turn to him.  Danny looks surprised and a little confused.  Allison has her sad eyes on, the ones that make Stiles want to give her a hug.  He doesn’t like that they’re turned on him like that.

“Who wants to get rid of you?” Danny asks, amused.

Allison flashes her eyes at him, and the smile falls of Danny’s face.  He looks at Stiles, now worried.

“Allison,” Stiles demands.  “What is going on down there?”

“You’re not going to like it,” she says quietly.  “But, there are some things that you need to see.”

Stiles looks at her and then to Danny.  Danny shrugs and steps back from the situation.

“I told you it was dangerous, Stiles.” She says, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he’s shown up.

It takes Stiles a moment to backtrack to the conversation they had on the floor of Cloud 4 just after he really met Derek.  She had told him it was dangerous for him to get involved with Derek like he had.  She had told him he didn’t get it.

He knows not everyone believes in God or Angels, let alone Guardian ones.  He knows Derek wouldn’t always be believed when it came to Stiles.  What he doesn’t understand was why they kept taking him to doctors and thought he was sick.  He doesn’t understand why they wanted to get rid of him.  But, she had said it wasn’t just dangerous for Derek, but dangerous for him.

A shot of fear pounds through Stiles’ head.  He feels like he was going to be sick.  Distantly, he recognizes that he’s truly feeling scared for the first time, but it doesn’t even matter.

“I don’t think I want to know why it’s dangerous,” Stiles admits quietly.

Allison’s smile is heart breaking; she literally has tears filling up in her eyes.  Stiles realizes she’s been in his position before.  She knew first hand why it was dangerous.  Silently, she holds out her hand.

Stiles is surprised to see his hand shaking as he slowly reaches out to take her hand.  He still might not be strong enough to have full control of his wings, but his body has never acted out of his control like this.  He grips onto her hand as tightly as he can, and she squeezes back.  He looks up to her face, and she sends him a watery smile.  He nods minutely, and she turns, pulling him back to her living quarters.

Stiles glances back only once to see Danny watching them leave, looking troubled.

 

* * *

 

**Derek**

Derek is laying in bed reading The Boxcar Children as he waits for Stiles.  Stiles always shows up before he goes to bed.  Actually, he’s normally around as soon as he’s alone in his room.   But Derek went up to his room not long after dinner, telling his family he was tired after talking to that psychologist forever, and Stiles never showed up.  

 Derek groans as he reads the same page over again, not able to concentrate on the story.  It’s starting to scare him a little.  After the conversation with his parents and the weird questions from the psychologist, he’s more freaked out that Stiles wasn’t there.  He keeps hearing his sister’s voice over and over again.

“Stiles isn’t real,” she had said.  “Even if you have a guardian angel, you’re not going to see them.”  It was one thing coming from Laura.  She’s barely older than him, what does she know?  But, he can’t forget the looks on his parents’ faces.  The ones that looked worried and concerned and directed at him.  They never contradicted Laura but nodded.  They had asked why Stiles was still around.

Stiles is real; Derek knows he is.  But, he isn’t here like he normally is, and it’s starting to freak Derek out.

Finally, when Derek is about to throw down his book in frustration, Stiles appears in the middle of the room.

“Stiles!” Derek nearly shouts feeling more than relieved at the sight of his best friend.  He springs out of bed, ready to attack him in a hug after worrying so much, but he stops short as he registers the look on his face.

Stiles looks like a mess.  His eyes are all red and puffy, and he looks like he’s been trying to chew through his lip, because all the skin is starting to peel off.  Even his wings are drooping behind him and their color doesn’t seem to be as bright as they usually are.

“What happened?  Are you okay?” Derek asks, concerned for his friend

Stiles shakes his head.  “I made a mistake,” Stiles whispers looking at him right in the eye.

Derek’s breath hitches, and he finds it hard to breathe.  “I’m a mistake?” he whispers back, backing up to his bed.

Stiles winces.  “No.  You’re never a mistake.  You’re.  You’re my best friend.”

“I don’t understand,” Derek breathes out.  He sees Wolfy, all torn and battered up from age and love in the corner of his eye.  He climbs back onto the bed and pulls Wolfy close to his chest for comfort.

“You’re my best friend,” Stiles repeats.  “You’re -you’ve.  I’ve grown up with you.  I understand things that I never thought I would because of you.  And I love our time together.  I wouldn’t trade that for anything.  Almost anything.  If it would make you. . .better.  Or hurt less I would.  I don’t want to cause you pain or bad things in life.”

“You haven’t,” Derek says, his brow furrowed in confusion.  “You’ve helped prevent that pain,” he adds when he remembers his time in the hospital.

Stiles shakes his head.  “There’s a reason I’m supposed to remain invisible.  That you aren’t supposed to see me.  People don’t believe in us anymore, Derek.  Angels, that is.  They don’t believe in Angels.  It’s not normal to see one or talk about them.  They don’t understand that I’m real.  I can’t be real for them.”

“So, I can just tell them you’re gone,” Derek says, slowly putting the pieces together.  It’s not ideal.  He doesn’t like lying, but he gets what Stiles is saying.  He’s seen it in the adults around him.

“It’s too big of a risk.  I can’t do that to you.  They’re already having you go to psychologists.  I should’ve stopped sooner.”

“Stopped?”

“You’re not going to be able to see me anymore, Derek.  It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“No!  That’s stupid!” Derek retorts angrily, squeezing Wolfy even tighter.  He feels like he’s just ran the mile in gym class, but it’s even harder to breathe than that.

“I’m your Guardian Angel, Derek,” Stiles tells him, his eyes sad.  “My job is to keep you safe.  And it’s the best way.”

“No!” Derek shouts, forgetting about not being heard by the rest of his family.  “You can’t just leave me!”

Stiles kneels down in front of his bed, but Derek refuses to look at him.  “I will never leave you.  I swear.  Never.  I’m always going to watch over you, and I’m always going to be your Guardian Angel.  That’s never going to change.  You just can’t see me anymore.  Soon, you’ll forget all about me and live a normal life.  Be normal.”

Derek shakes his head angrily and hot tears trickle down his cheeks.  “No,” he repeats stubbornly.

Stiles looks pained.  “I’m sorry, Derek.”

And then he disappears.

“Stiles!” Derek shouts, but the red-winged angel doesn’t reappear.  He locks his door from his parents and cries himself to sleep.

As he’s drifting off to sleep, Derek mutters, “You’re wrong.  I won’t ever forget you.”

 

* * *

 

**Stiles**

Stiles’ eyes squeeze shut when he hears Derek’s last words before he falls asleep.  He tries to forget the people Allison showed them:  all the ones living with a mental illness or trauma.  There were even ones that weren’t crazy or had something wrong, but society thought there was.  Ones that had been force-fed medicine and pills until it messed with their brain chemistries making them unstable.  Stiles wasn’t the first angel to reveal himself to his or her charge.  Stiles never wanted Derek to end up like that.

 Tears force their way past his eyes lids.  “I hope you do,” Stiles thinks.  “I hope you forget me.”

* * *

  **Derek**  

Derek wakes up the next morning and feels empty.  He looks around the room, hoping to find a bit of Stiles in it somewhere, but there’s nothing to indicate that he had visited while he was asleep.  He frowns and gets ready for school.  He’s quiet that day.  He’s quiet that week, but between his family, friends, and weekly sessions with the psychologist, quiet is not an option.

He mourns for his best friend and moves on.  He refuses to talk about Stiles.  He shrugs when his parents question him about Stiles.  “What’s it matter?”  he asks bitterly.  “It’s not like he’s real.”

Soon his parents stop asking.  The psychologist persists, but eventually it’s decided that he’s well adapted.  After around six months, his sessions stop completely, and Stiles is joyfully forgotten by his parents.

Derek doesn’t forget.  Stiles used to lose feathers sometimes.  Most of them got sent out the window or into the trash.  Derek finds one underneath his bed, after Stiles had left.  He keeps it tucked away in his favorite book, Alanna: The First Adventure.

* * *

 

**Stiles**

Allison keeps close after Stiles’ goodbye to Derek, and he appreciates the support.  It takes awhile before he feels comfortable enough to be around Derek and not be tempted to drop his barrier.  It gets easier to stay invisible the more Derek seems to forget about him, although his heart always clenches when Derek takes his feather out from his book.  It always takes ten times the amount of effort and control to keep himself back and his barrier up in those moments, but they happen less and less as time goes by.  Which is a good thing, Stiles has to remind himself.

Derek finishes up his very last psychologist session when Allison visits.  They watch silently as Derek gets into his parent’s car and heads out to a restaurant to a celebratory dinner.

Stiles has a hard time remembering that this was his entire reason for remaining invisible to Derek when the Hales go out for a dinner celebrating Derek forgetting him.  Stiles tries to think of it as a good thing.  The whole point was that the world won’t see Derek as mentally unbalanced but as the healthy boy he is.  But, as he watches Derek enjoy his dinner, it’s just so hard, especially when he misses Derek so fiercely.  Derek is still his best friend, and although he sees him everyday, he can’t talk to him.  Stiles always finds something he wants to tell Derek, either a story or a fact to share or something that will make him laugh.  But they just get swallowed up in his mind, never reaching their goal.  Stiles desperately wants to be Derek’s best friend again, but it isn’t an option.

As he morosely watches Derek dine with his family, Allison nudges him.

“You’re wings have gotten stronger,” she comments glancing at them and then back to Derek.

Stiles stretches them out and beats them for a few seconds.  She’s right.  They are stronger.  Longer, too.  He lets them out all the way and pulls them forward, so he can see them.  Their copper color has deepened too, almost shining.   “Oh,” he says looking at them.  He then lets them relax back into their resting position. 

“Don’t sound so excited,” Allison teases.  “If you practice, you can finally fly properly.  Maybe soon you’ll be able to fly between Heaven and Earth instead of relying on projection.”

“I guess,” Stiles mutters, his eyes still on Derek where he is laughing at something Laura had said.

Allison grabs his hand and squeezes.  “It means you’ve improved as an angel.  A Guardian Angel.” She reminds him gently.  “You made a sacrifice and did what was best for your charge.   It’s a good thing.  You did the right thing.”

Stiles turns to her and gives her a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.  “I know.”

He would trade his stronger wings for just a minute with Derek.


	5. Growing Up

As promised, Stiles continues to watch Derek.  Derek never becomes a stranger.   Stiles knows Derek better than he knows himself.  He is able to grow and learn with Derek, much like he had done when Derek was younger.  Puberty was an interesting time for both of them.  It’s a whole new world, and a wider selection of desires and feelings to be fucked with.

Stiles spends most of his time trying to keep Derek in with the right crowd.  He and Scott have some rocky moments where they let their insecurities and competitiveness take control.  Stiles can’t force them to stay friends, but he tries to make sure Derek doesn’t end up hanging out with Ennis, who takes steroids, or Duke, who has been to juvie too many times.  To keep them out of Derek’s path, it’s not easy.   It relies on timing and a lot of subtle intervention, which isn’t Stiles’ strong suit.  Luckily, Derek makes some new, good friends like Mason and Liam, and continues his friendship with Scott, even if they get into more arguments.

They’re both present for the sex talk.  Derek turns red and groans at his mom every few minutes.  It’s before his sexual awakening, which probably makes it a little less awkward.   His sexual awakening is more of an unconscious realization, when he wakes up hard and has vague memories of random bodies appearing in his dreams.

Derek starts. . .researching.  Basically, he watches porn and figures out how to jerk himself off, what feels good and what turns him on.  Stiles finds out that not even his angelic body is immune to sexual desire.  He spends many nights (and days) with a hard on as he watches Derek explore, but he refuses to give into temptation within Derek’s presence.  Stiles has to admit, it’s weird to masturbate in Heaven, too, but it’s the lesser of two evils.

Derek accidentally stumbles onto gay porn – and is interested.  So is Stiles, but it’s not a surprise to him.  He’s been just as turned on watching Derek get off than watching his porn in the past few months.    

That night Derek has his first wet dream.  He wakes up gasping in exhilaration and imagines a pink mouth, strong hands, and moles.  There’s a strange wistful feeling settled low in his gut when he thinks on it too long, so he doesn’t.  The man, for that’s who it is, is a recurring character in Derek’s dreams.  He appears in high school, college, and well after.  Derek credits him for his early acceptance and admission to being bisexual at a young age.

Stiles’ heart beats a little faster when Derek tells his parents.  He doesn’t dwell on the why.

 

* * *

As Derek grows up, there isn’t a lot of life threatening that happens.  It’s mostly the usual of keeping Derek on the right track, which by the time Derek gets to high school, isn’t very hard. Derek doesn’t really veer off to the bad crowds, and Stiles gets a little better at being subtle by keeping doors shut or having Derek drop his books, so he misses the bullies he would’ve ran into around the corner. 

There is the baseball accident where Derek almost gets hit with the baseball bat.  He’s on the high school’s Junior Varsity team, and one of the kids is warming up before he bats.  And not paying attention, Stiles thinks angrily.  Derek is practicing pitching only a few feet behind the hitter, not wearing a helmet, because he’s not swinging a bat.

As the player takes a warm up swing, he loses control of the bat, and it goes flying – right towards Derek’s head.  Stiles doesn’t even think, and throws his arm in front of the bat’s path, causing it to fling off at a weird angle.  Derek’s team talk about how weird it was the bat just changed directions like that and how lucky Derek was afterwards.  That night, Derek goes home and looks at his feather for a longtime.  Stiles would feel pleased if he doesn’t feel so far away from Derek.

Derek starts his first real relationship not long after that.  Her name’s Paige, and she plays the cello for the school’s orchestra.  She’s a sweetheart with gorgeous hair and makes Derek happy, so Stiles likes her, even though he feels detached when he watches the two of them together.

They date until the tragedy.  Derek’s a freshmen in college, and Paige is a senior in high school when it happens.  A drunk driver barrels through a red light and T-Bones Paige’s car.

Derek loses his first love and maybe even the love of his life that day.  Stiles doesn’t know how to help him this time.  The last time he felt this helpless was when Derek was curled up on the hospital bed, but Stiles can’t repeat that path.  He does what he can, even if it’s only small things like having Derek find five bucks on the ground.  Every little bit counts. 

* * *

 

Things are a little bit harder after that.  Derek closes himself off from the rest of the world in his grief.  The friends he had just started to make at the beginning of his college career were easily pushed aside, as he dealt with his loss.  All Derek can think about is why did no one save her?  He might not have thought of Stiles directly in ages, but Guardian Angels are in the back of his mind.  If he is worthy enough to have someone watch over and protect him, why wasn’t she?  Why was she allowed to die?  He’s worth so much less than she was.

He becomes depressed and starts shying away from other human interaction.  He’s grumpy when people try to reach out to him.  He doesn’t feel like he deserves anything from anyone.  Stiles has to maneuver one of the only RAs who cares or notices that type of thing into Derek’s path frequently.  It isn’t long before the RA submits an inquiry to the Wellness Center, and Derek starts attending sessions with a counselor.  It pains Stiles, after everything that went on in Derek’s youth to have him back at a counselor, but this time he thinks it might actually help.

And it does, albeit very slowly.  Freshmen year had been a time for grieving for Derek, and Sophomore year became a year of healing.  The counselor starts with the small things like just getting Derek to talk to her about anything, before they delve into the matter of Paige.  Dr. Satomi is quick to realize that he hasn’t let his grades slip once, even though his life had fallen apart.  By the end of the first semester, she has him actively participating in class discussions and interacting with people.  By the end of the year, he talks more freely to others and even smiles.  His junior year he joins Phi Sigma Pi and becomes part of a family again, which allows him to finally make some close friends.   Derek is more cautious than before, especially when it comes to people.   He’s weary to let people close to him, and he’s much more reserved.  The cocky seventeen year old has disappeared, but he still retains the same amount of passion and opinions as before.

Trouble almost hits at the end of junior year, when a peer, Garrett, becomes interested in him.  At first, Stiles looks into him for curiosity’s sake and doesn’t like what he found.  He was manipulative to his friends and power hungry.  When he digs, he finds that he was abusive to past boyfriends.  After playing the “keep Derek out of Garret’s sight” game, Stiles has Derek stumble onto Garrett threatening one of his TAs.  Derek never gives him the time of day after that. 

 

* * *

 

Derek meets fellow senior, Braeden, at the beginning of the new school year when they are both stressing out at the campus coffee shop about life after college.  They originally start hanging out just to enjoy each other’s company and make it a point to take the stress out.  Stiles likes Braeden.  She calls Derek out on his bullshit, and he remembers how to live again when he’s with her.  She forces him out of his comfort zones, and Stiles can see more of the old Derek again, like when they go sky-diving.  His face beams in excitement as he falls from the sky, and he’s not even wishing to die.  When they land safely on the ground, Derek, fueled by adrenaline, spins Braeden around laughing and then kisses her until they’re both breathless.  They’re both smiling as they head home that night. 

They make a good couple and know how to enjoy each other’s company.  After graduation, Braeden accepts a position at Presidio of San Francisco’s Archeology Lab, and Derek moves to San Francisco with her.  He enrolls into the Police Academy and begins his formal training.

For the first time in their lives, they are living with each other, and it’s surprisingly easy.  They get along well and rarely fight.  Derek is shocked at how easy the relationship is, but pleased with the trust they retain between the two of them.  Things are good between them for the first few years.  Derek obtains a Police Officer position in San Francisco, and Braeden continues her work at the Presidio.  They live in harmony.  They spend their time exploring San Francisco and deciding on their favorite haunts.

They adopt a dog after their first year in San Francisco.  An energetic, silver lab named Indy.  They take Indy down to the waters for his walks during the week, enjoying an after dinner stroll, but on weekends, or any free days they can both get, they dedicate to hiking.  Bernal Hill is their most common hike.  It’s dog friendly and does have a great view of the city.  Derek’s favorite part is letting Indy off the leash, and the three of them race each other up the hill at some of its smoother points.  It always ends with them laughing and collapsing on the ground for a water break before they continue to the top.

It’s good times, and Derek is happy.  He succeeds in pushing things to the back of his mind.  It’s easy to do so since Braeden doesn’t know about them and can’t bring them up in conversation.  When she tells Derek that she got introduced to some doctor at the lab and has been recruited to join her team in Peru to study Canon del Colco, which just happens to be what Braeden wrote her thesis on, Derek is ecstatic for her.  It’s her dream job, and Derek doesn’t think of the consequences.

Braeden’s gone for two months the first time.  And then, there are two sixth month trips.  They stay in contact and talk at weird hours when they can.  Skype and Line become their best friends.  They both arrange their work time carefully when she’s back in the States, so they can spend as much time together as they can.  But, San Francisco loses its appeal to Derek.  He still enjoys hiking with Indy, but the city life becomes too much for him.  Without Braeden to concentrate on when he goes outside, his senses feel assaulted by everything that’s thrown at him.

The only reason he is in San Francisco is because of Braeden’s job, and that’s not a huge issue anymore.  So, he starts looking for openings in communities nearby.  Shockingly, he ends up with a promotion.  He gets the Chief Deputy Sheriff position for Beacon County under Sheriff Stilinski.  It’s a little over an hour commute from the county to the university where Braeden’s team is filing and finalizing their research.  It’s further away than how far they agreed Derek would move, but Braeden assures him it will be fine.  She can deal with the extra thirty minutes of a commute, and she’s just as excited for him that he ended up with a promotion as he had beenfor her job.  So, Derek accepts it and moves to Beacon Hills.

 

* * *

 

Stiles is happy for Derek and at how far he’s come after Paige’s death.  He’s remembering how to enjoy life, and Braeden is a good choice for Derek’s next long term relationship.  She treats him well and reminds him how to be happy.  Sure, sometimes Stiles feels a little wistful, maybe a little jealous, but that doesn’t matter.  To be honest, Stiles can’t even work up to full jealousy anyways because he knows Derek doesn’t love her. Not really.  His potential feelings towards Braeden aren’t anywhere what they were to Paige.  Stiles has been told over and over again that a human’s first love was never really repeated, but Stiles knows Braeden isn’t it for Derek.  Maybe Derek won’t love anyone else like he had loved Paige, but he doesn’t have any kind of sparkle in his eye when he looks at Braeden.  It isn’t even close to the same. 

Stiles is shocked when Derek walks into an interview with John Stilinski, Claudia’s husband.  And technically, his father.  At the beginning of his life as an angel, Stiles couldn’t fathom the concept of a father.  He didn’t share the concern and love that his mother had for John.  Maybe a little curiosity, but that was it.  After watching Derek grow up, he understands the importance of John and what he could’ve been--what they could’ve been, if he was alive.  Even after that realization, Stiles still doesn’t check in on John.  It isn’t that he doesn’t want to get to know his father, but how much more would it hurt if he did?  If his mother loved him, then Stiles knew he was a great man.  He watched him once a year on the anniversary of his and his mother’s death.  Even that was hard to watch as John tried to drown his sorrows through alcohol.  According to his mother, it was the only time of the year that he allowed himself to drink after he spent too many months after they died in a bottle.  Stiles had purposefully kept his distance.

And now Derek is working for John, meaning that Stiles would probably see him every day.  Stiles talks to his mother all the time, which includes discussing Derek, but she rarely visits Derek with Stiles.  It only happened on a few precious occasions.  There were the few times when Allison couldn’t keep Stiles company after he stopped revealing his form to Derek, so Claudia joined him instead.  And after Paige died, Claudia had joined in watching Derek and tried to radiate comfort for his broken heart.  She joins Stiles and Derek on Derek’s first day working for Sheriff John Stilinski.

 

* * *

 

Derek was one of many cops in San Francisco, even in his department.  There were too many of them for the captain and other supervisors to know him personally, and Derek never made a point of it.  He must have made a good impression on someone, though, to be recommended for the Chief Deputy Sheriff position.  When he walks into the Beacon County station for his first day, Derek is full of nerves.  He had liked the sheriff from his interview because he had seemed like a fair man with just enough of sternness to hold his position.  And he must have liked Derek enough to hire him, but it isn’t until Derek looks around the bull pin and realizes how small the department is that Derek realizes he was going to be working very closely with everyone, including the sheriff.  The pressure to make a good impression quadruples. 

Luckily, Derek has never been a man of many words, and he spends the day replying with a couple of monosyllabic words without appearing too rude or snobby.  It wasn’t until the sheriff claps him on the shoulder and tells him he is glad to have him with a genuine smile that Derek allows himself to relax the smallest amount.  It took until Friday night at the bar with the sheriff and other deputies just enjoying each other’s company for him to finally feel at ease.  As the sheriff explains to him, they are family.

Stiles spends Derek’s first day trying to stamp down on the urge to fly about.  He feels restless and oddly nervous.  It was like he was meeting his father for the first time, and he desperately wants Derek to make a good impression on him.  Claudia holds his hand almost the entire time, in part to calm himdown and in part to find strength for herself.  At the end of Derek’s first shift, she has tears in her eyes and a sad smile on her lips.

“It’s interesting,” she whispers to Stiles, “how things work out.”  Then, she kisses his forehead and spends the rest of the night watching her husband.

It takes a long time for Stiles to figure out why she said that.


	6. The Game Changer

 

**Derek**

Derek and Braeden are coming up on their five-year anniversary and still going strong.  Sure, Derek wishes she was around more often or preferred a lab position instead of being in the field, but she loves what she does and Derek isn’t going to fault her that.  It’s been five years together: four of those years living together, another three of those being dog parents.  Sure, things have changed, but they have survived the changes their jobs and life have thrown at them.  Derek thinks it’s time.

* * *

 

**Stiles**

 

Stiles follows Derek mindlessly.  It’s less than a month before Braeden is home again, and Derek always buys random gifts for her when she returns.  He stocks up on the ice cream she likes and gets new movies that he hasn’t seen.  It’s normally a lot of shopping and cleaning right before she comes back, so Stiles just kinda zones out on the particulars of Derek’s errands.  Not that he doesn’t pay attention and make sure he’s safe.  He keeps his eyes open and everything.  He just doesn’t pay attention to which piece of jewelry Derek decides on at Holy Grail Jewelers.  He thinks it’s weird that Derek buys her jewelry anyways.  It’s not like she ever wears it except for some of the longer, simpler chain necklaces or the same pair of diamond earrings she wears almost every day.   

He watches as Derek picks her up from the airport.  They don’t even kiss hello.  They just smile, and she climbs into the car before they head home.  Stiles can’t help but roll his eyes and wonder how much longer their relationship is going to last.

Braeden and Indy tumble around on the floor when they finally get back to their loft.  As usual, Derek orders a pizza and pulls out Braeden’s favorite beer out of the fridge.  They spend the rest of the night with Indy on the floor, sharing pizza with one another and throwing pizza toppings at Indy and talking the night away.  

Braeden is only home for a month.  The past excavation was a combined job and the rest of the work was being done at facilities in Chicago instead of San Francisco.  Derek doesn’t pick up any extra shifts and the station, and Braeden doesn’t do any of the extra work she would do in San Francisco, so they can try to enjoy their time together. 

* * *

 

 

On her last full day, which happens to be their fifth year anniversary, Derek insists on a hiking trip on Bernal Hill.  Stiles sighs, wondering when either of them will realize that they aren’t the same people they were five years ago.  Sure, they still talk, but none of their stories overlap.  All they talk about is work and nothing else.  Braeden tells stories about the crazy interactions with Peru’s citizens and how sometimes her dialect of Quechua doesn’t always match up with theirs.  Derek’s stories are about the crazy citizens of Beacon Hills and the paranoid calls they get at the station.   Sharing interests and actual understanding of each other is a thing of the past, and Stiles is tired of watching it happen.

Both Stiles’ and Braeden’s eyebrows go up in amusement when Derek opens his backpack with a classic, romantic picnic at the top of Bernal Hill.  When Derek makes a small love speech, Braeden smiles and Stiles rolls his eyes.  And then, Derek passes Braeden a small velvet box.  Stiles moves behind her as she opens it, wondering what Derek ended up picking out.  It’s a ring.  It’s a simple, elegant diamond ring.  Stiles’ stomach rolls over.  It almost looks like –

“Will you marry me?” Derek asks.

Stiles feels like he’s going to be sick, even though he knows that’s not possible.  He can’t believe Derek asked Braeden or that he thought she’d agree.

“Of course,” Braeden answers, smiling and slipping it on.

Stiles’ brain short-circuits.   _What._  

* * *

 

 

Stiles feels like he’s in a daze.  After the proposal last night, Indy had whined and went over to sit by Stiles.  It wasn’t the first time that Indy had been able to sense his presence.  Dogs were intuitive like that.  Indy stayed close to him for the rest of the night, and Stiles relied on him as he followed Derek and Braeden to their car and back home.  He couldn’t even muster enough energy to return to Heaven, but cuddled with Indy downstairs while Derek and Braeden celebrated upstairs in their bedroom. 

Braeden left that morning for Chicago, and Derek promised he’d tell everyone the good news, which is what he was doing now.

“Yeah.  I mean, no,” Derek says into the phone and then he sighs, exasperated.  “Look Laura.”  He pauses.  “Laura.”  He sits down on the bed.  “Laura,” he repeats a little louder.  “LAURA.  I just called to tell you I’m engaged.”  He rubs his hands over his beard.  “Yes, to Braeden.” He growls.  “We’ve been dating for five years.”  He listens to Laura talk, getting more and more annoyed as he listens.  “Of course, I’m sure.”  He pauses again.  “This isn’t for discussion.  I’m in love with her, and we’re getting married,” he spits out angrily, hanging up on his sister.

“No, you’re not,” Stiles hisses out, without his permission.

* * *

 

**Derek**

Derek whips his head around.  And damn, is he having déjà vu?  A tall, lithe man stands by the stairs up to his bedroom.  He has bright brown eyes, tousled hair, and strong, bright copper wings.  Derek distantly recognizes him as his Guardian Angel and someone he has seen in his dreams.  The last time Derek had seen the angel, he had looked close to tears and his face was soft with sorrow.  Now, his eyes are narrowed, and his mouth is tight in anger.

“Stiles?” Derek croaks out.

“I mean what the hell, Derek?” Stiles shouts, his arms flinging outward in his anger, before the conversation registers.  His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open.  “Oh shit.  Wait, can you see me?”

Derek blinks.  “Yes,” he replies slowly, his eyes traveling up and down Stiles’ frame.  He looks exactly like he remembered; only there were parts that he didn’t register before.  Like Stiles’ hands.  They’re large with long, thin digits, which are entrancing, as they won’t stop moving.  Or, Stiles’ unfairly pink lips parted just enough and glistening from his own saliva.  He’s tall, too, but not in the tall, gangly way in which he remembers, but with strong shoulders that narrow sharply down to his waist, and - Derek finally tears his eyes away.

“But, I didn’t,” Stiles says confused as he twirls around.  Derek can’t help but grin as he watches him spin around, reminding him of Indy trying to chase his tail.  “But I should still be invisible,” Stiles says when he comes to a stop again, facing Derek.  “All I did was speak.”

Derek’s eyes narrow as he remembers the words hissed into the air and his conversation with Laura.  “What the hell did you mean by that?”  he demands.

Stiles stops fidgeting and looks at Derek, assessing him.  “Are you serious right now?”  Stiles asks with a snort.

Derek doesn’t respond, but intensifies his glare, which he has been told can be scary as fuck, and clenches his jaw.

Stiles rolls his eyes.  “You’re not even in love with her.  I thought you guys would be breaking up soon, not getting married.”

“And what the fuck do you know?” Derek gets up from the bed in anger, approaching closer to Stiles with each word.  “You haven’t been around for the past thirteen years.”

“I told you, I wasn’t going anywhere.  I’m your Guardian Angel, Derek.  I’ve seen everything.”

Derek just stares at Stiles, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in.  “This is ridiculous.  I’ve finally lost it,” he mutters to himself and rubs his hand over his eyes, hoping to unsee Stiles when he lowers them.  No such luck.

“Derek?”  Stiles asks with his forehead wrinkled in concern.  “What are you doing?”

Derek shakes his head and walks away from Stiles.  No, not Stiles, the delusion.  He makes his way over to the window and pulls out his cell phone.

“He’s not real,” Derek murmurs.  His mom is number one on his speed dial, but he can’t seem to press the buttons.

“Derek?”  Stiles repeats from behind him, his voice going up in octave.

Derek breathes in and out deeply.  “You’re not real,” he states slowly, focusing on that and trying to convince himself.

There’s some sort of choking noise behind him.  “What do you mean I’m not real?  Derek?  Derek!"

Derek closes his eyes, and his fist clenches around his cell phone.  He remembers the psychologists he went to and the things his family had said when he had last seen Stiles, but he can’t remember what he was a product of.  What did he have as a kid that caused him to hallucinate?  Why was it happening now?

Someone tugs on his shoulder, turning him around.

“Derek,” he hears.  “Derek.  I swear to god, open your eyes.”

Derek squeezes them shut.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Derek.  I’m real.  I always have been.  Don’t you dare forget about that now.”

“Not real,” Derek breathes out.  “Never were.”

“Bullshit!” The voice snaps back.  “You don’t believe that for a second.  I left so you wouldn’t get into trouble with those psychologists.  What the hell did they do to you?”

Derek finally opens his eyes.  “Then why don’t you just do us a favor and leave again.”

Stiles steps back, disgusted.  “Fine.”  He closes his eyes, and Derek relaxes, way too soon.  Stiles’ eyes snap open again. “You know what? No!  This is the first time I’ve been allowed to appear to you in thirteen years, and you’re going to listen to me.”

Derek crosses his arms.  “Oh, really?”

Stiles tilts his head up and then copies Derek’s stance.  “Yeah.”

Derek stares him down, but he can’t help but think this was pointless, having a staring contest with his own imagination.  He narrows his eyes on the delusion.  “And then you’ll leave?”

Stiles’ jaw tightens for a few seconds before he relaxes his entire body in defeat.  “Yeah, Derek.  Then, I’ll leave.”

“Good,”  Derek responds, not moving.  “Talk.”

“You deserve better, Derek.”

“Better than what?”  Derek asks, incredulously.  “A loving fiancé, a good job, and a stable household?”

Stiles shakes his head.  “Dude, you don’t love her.  Not really.  And I don’t think she loves you that way either.”

Derek scoffs.  “Of course she does, we’re getting married.  She said yes.”

Stiles shrugs.  “Perhaps.  Perhaps it’s just easy.  A nice stable home to keep her on track when she’s in the US.  If she’s in the US.  And it’s not like you two aren’t good together, but you could both have so much more.”

Derek’s thoughts flicker to Paige for a split second.  “You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not.  I was so happy for you, Derek, when you and Braeden got together.  I thought she was a great stepping stone for your recovery, but I never thought you’d marry her.  You don’t really love her, and it’s not fair to either of you.”

“I love her.”

“Not like you loved Paige,”  Stiles says quietly.

And even though Derek had been pretty sure that was coming and tried to prepare for it, it doesn’t stop it from hurting any less.  He steps back as if he was physically attacked and tries to remember how to breathe.  There’s too many tears in his eyes to see what’s going on.

“Hey, hey.  You’re okay.  You’re okay,” is being whispered into his ear, and there’s strong arms cradling him close to a warm body as he’s being helped to the floor.  He can feel more than see Stiles hug him from behind.  Derek doesn’t even think twice before he’s leaning his head back against the warm, solid chest behind him taking any comfort he can as the tears roll down his cheeks.

By the time his eyes are dry, his face is completely nestled into Stiles’ chest, and Stiles is carding his fingers through his hair.  The physical sensations of being cared for and so close to Stiles is pleasant and comforting.  If that were the only factor, Derek might have curled up alongside Stiles and happily drifted off to sleep.  But, he also feels emotionally drained.  He avoids thinking about Paige because he can’t handle it.  Even after so many years, he’s never really faced it.  It was easier to toughen himself up and pretend like he was getting better than actually talk about it with the psychologist after her death.  At some point, the pretending became truth, and Derek had found himself with friends and happy again, but Paige still sends him spiraling out of control.

The deep agonizing pain he feels from that contrasts greatly against his physical ones, and it makes him just want to bury his head into Stiles’ chest even more and forget about it.  Unfortunately, there’s a small part of Derek’s brain that’s reminding him that Stiles isn’t real.  That none of this is real.  It iss those thoughts that make Derek pull away from his Guardian Angel.

Stiles’ left hand is still held tight to Derek’s bicep and his right hand comes up to brush his drying tears off his face.  “How are you doing?” he asks softly.

Derek mutely shakes his hand and forces himself to stand up and away from Stiles.  He can hear Stiles give a low sigh as he moves over to the bed and carefully settles down on it.   

“Do you want some tea?” Stiles asks him, still settled on the floor.

Derek pulls the Kleenex box from the nightstand onto his lap.  He doesn’t look at Stiles.

“Okay,” Stiles says in hushed tones.  “I’ll get you some tea.”

Derek soon realizes that the abundance of tissues isn’t going to make him feel better.  He slowly gets up and pads his way into his bathroom, using cold water to wash his face off.  It helps.  A little.

Stiles is sitting at the edge of his bed when he gets back with a mug clenched firmly in his right hand.  He holds it out, as Derek gets closer.  Derek hesitates before he takes it.  In theory, the tea isn’t any more real than Stiles is, but if it gives him comfort, then Derek doesn’t really care at this point.  He brings it up to his mouth and takes a sip.

It takes effort not to spit it back out.  It’s hot.  Burning hot, and stings as it travels down his throat.  It barely tastes like anything either, like the tea bag had just been put in.  He glances down at the tea bag.  It is green tea.  The only tea he drinks actually, and it looked like the same brand that was sitting in his kitchen cabinets.  Derek stops trying to figure out how real his imagination can get and places the mug down on his bedside table.  

He proceeds to climb into bed and pull a pillow onto his chest.  He looks at Stiles.  “Go on.”

Stiles looks back dumbly.

“You said,” Derek explains slowly,  “that when you were done talking you would leave.  So finish talking, so I can forget this whole thing ever happened.”

“Derek,” Stiles says helplessly.

Derek closes his eyes.  “You left off with Paige,”  he reminds Stiles.

There’s a few beats of silence before Derek hears Stiles moving.  Further onto the bed, if Derek is judging the movement of the mattress correctly.  He can sense Stiles just to the right of him.

“You loved her,” Stiles whispers.

Derek takes in a deep breath and lets it out.  He nods.

“I’ve never.  I mean.”  Stiles pauses.  “They say you never love anyone like your first love.  And maybe that’s true.”

Derek knows it’s true.  He will never feel that way ever again.  He doesn’t deserve to.

“But, there’s a big difference, Derek, between that love and your love for Braeden.  I know you love her and care for her, but I don’t think you’re in love with her.”

Derek finally opens his eyes.  Stiles is sitting cross-legged to the right of Derek and facing him.  Derek can’t help what probably looks like a constipated look on his face.

“If she never came back, it wouldn’t be the end of the world for you.  She’s gone at months at a time, Derek, and you barely even notice.  It’s routine for the two of you nothing more.”

Derek feels like there’s a thread fraying at the edges, and he clings to it desperately in fear that everything will become undone.  “You’re wrong.”

Pain and hurt flickers over Stiles face and then he just looks defeated.  “Yeah, okay,” he says.  He gets up and moves towards the center of the room.  Derek can’t help but track his every moment.  Stiles turns around, facing Derek once again.  “You deserve better, Derek.  And so does she.”  With that, Stiles closes his eyes.  Derek holds his breath waiting for him to disappear before he actually relaxes this time, but Stiles doesn’t go anywhere.  Instead, Stiles’ face scrunches up in concentration, his cute, upturned nose wrinkling.

* * *

 

 

Five minutes later, Stiles is still standing there looking ridiculous as he tries to project himself back.  He finally opens his eyes and locks eyes with Derek.  “Well, fuck.”

Derek narrows his eyes.  “What do you mean, well fuck?”

“It’s not working,” Stiles explains, his eyes getting bigger every second.  “I can’t even put any shields up.  I can’t even go invisible, which is like the bare minimum of necessity!”

Derek eyes Stiles’ wings.  “You can still fly,” he points out.

“But I can’t go invisible!” Stiles exclaims, his arms flying outward in frustration.

Derek doesn’t see the connection.  “So?”

“Soooo, I can’t just go flying off into the sky where all the people will see a large red winged human body thing!”

Derek rolls eyes.  Why does his subconscious have to make everything so complicated?  “No one will see you.”

“But-“

Derek resists rolling his eyes again.  Barely.  “You can take off by the dumpsters.  No one will see you there.  You just have to be fast.”

Stiles makes a god awful sound from the back of his throat and throws his arms up in the air again.

Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Stiles relents.

They make their way downstairs, and Indy goes nuts when he sees Stiles.

He’s running around in circles around Stiles, then jumping up on two legs for Stiles to pet him and for Indy to lick Stiles’ face, and then repeating the whole process.  Stiles laughs a little and enthusiastically pets Indy when he’s near enough.

Derek is unofficially starting to wonder how much of an hallucination his Guardian Angel really is.

Not saying a word, Derek heads over to the mudroom and grabs Indy’s lead and heads back out to the den.  Indy’s ears perk up when he sees his lead and bounds over to Derek.  Derek clips the lead on and slides open the door for Stiles.

Stiles glances between Derek and Indy.  “Can I?” he asks looking at the leash

Derek sighs and hands it over.  What could go wrong in giving the leash of his real dog to a maybe real Guardian Angel?

They make it outside, and Stiles kneels down to give Indy a hug and lets Indy give him some real slobbery kisses.   Stiles hands over the leash to Derek and goes to stand a few feet away.  He gives them a sad sort of smile.  “Well, see ya.”

Derek watches as his wings move into take-off position, fully exposed.  Stiles moves them a few times before he tenses on his feet and jumps into the air, his wings moving faster.  Only, he doesn’t fly off into the sky like Derek’s expecting.  He jumps and falls back to Earth, tripping as he does, so he lands on his hands.  “What the hell?”  Stiles mutters.  He stands back up and does it again.  Same result.

Stiles scowls as he examines his wings and spreads them out, stretching them before he tries again.  They stay out there for at least an hour, Stiles unable to fly, when Derek’s neighbor, Trish, treads into the alley dragging a large, heavy-duty garbage bag.

Stiles freezes in horror, his eyes comically wide.  He’s panicked enough that he doesn’t even bring his wings back in to make them less conspicuous.  Derek freezes too, but for a different reason.  He really doesn’t want further confirmation that he’s losing his mind by visualizing an angel.  And Indy starts barking in excitement.

“Hey, Indy,” Trish says, leaning down to pet him.  She looks up at Derek and smiles.  “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Derek manages to grunt out.  Trish snickers a little and then looks over at Stiles.  “Hey, I’m Trish.  Did you just move in?”

Both Stiles and Derek blink at her.

She frowns and looks down.  “What?  Did I spill the horribly gross, rotten food on me or something?”

“I, uh. No.  You’re fine.  I just thought. Well,” Stiles stammers through before he finds something of a somewhat coherent thought.  “Most people don’t take too kindly to my kind.”

Trish raises her eyebrows and snorts?  “What kind is that?  Plaid is so totally in right now.  And have you seen me?  Tattoos might be rising in popularity, but the norm is still for them to be covered on a daily basis.”

Trish has a colorful selection of tattoos displayed across her body.  Derek knows she had trouble getting hired at some places because of them.

Stiles shrugs in response as he looks at her art.  “I think they’re cool.”

She gives him a smile.  “Thanks.  Mind helping me with this lug?”  she asks gesturing to her garbage bag.

“Uh, sure.  No problem,” Stiles responds, moving forward to take it from her, but Trish stops him.

“Relax, I just need you to open the dumpster you’re right in front of. I got this,”  she explains, hulling the bag up and over her head.  Stiles hastily opens the dumpster, and she heaves it in.  “Thanks!  I’ll see you around!”  Trish chirps as she wipes her hands on her torn up jeans and heads back the way she came.

“She saw you,”  Derek says dumbly.

“Well, duh.  I told you I can’t remain invisible,”  Stiles says examining his wings again.

“You’re real.”

Stiles looks up at Derek.  “Oh.  Yeah.  You doing alright?”

Derek nods slowly as he thinks about it.  “It’s nice to know I’m not going crazy.  And I think I knew.  I just didn’t believe.”  He looks over at Stiles who has gone back to examining his wings with frenzy.

“Relax, you can crash with me for the night.  I’m sure you’ll be able to fly tomorrow.”

Stiles blinks owlishly at him.  “You can see my wings?”

Derek nods.  “She couldn’t,” Stiles whispers.


	7. The Transition

**Derek**

Stiles isn’t able to fly the next day. Or the next.  He isn’t able to project either.  He is just stuck on Earth for no apparent reason.   It becomes a human vacation for Stiles.  In his boredom, he starts tasting all of Derek’s food and demolishes a box of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch.  He’s still an angel, so he doesn’t get hungry but he discovers that he loves food. He thinks Derek makes the best sandwiches, which makes Derek laugh.  It was almost moldy bread with ham, lettuce, and mustard, by far not the best sandwich Derek has made for himself, but it was what he had in the fridge. He orders a large pizza supreme one night, and the sounds Stiles makes. . .Well they make Derek turn bright red, and he refuses to look at Stiles during the entire dinner. He makes the mistake of looking up once to see Stiles _sucking_ the grease off his obscenely long fingers.  Derek keeps his eyes glued to his plate after that.    

The first time Derek has to leave Stiles alone at the loft is because he has to go to work.  Since he has to leave anyways, he composes a huge list of shopping items to stock up the house with and asks Stiles if there’s anything he’s ever wanted to try.  Curly fries, chocolate and ice cream get added to the list. 

When he goes to leave, Derek throws Stiles the TV remote and tells him not to touch anything or leave the loft. He gets hit with puppy dog eyes from both Stiles and Indy, and dammit that isn’t a fair fight. He relents that he can take Indy around the block but no further.  He raises his eyebrows at Indy knowing Indy would follow his directions better than Stiles would.  Indy lays down on his front paws in acquiesce, and Derek leaves feeling satisfied. 

When Derek gets back to work the sheriff greets him with a clap on the shoulder. 

“Nice to have you back, Son.  How did things go with Braeden?”  The sheriff asks him.

Derek blanks for a minute.  He’s barely thought of Braeden since she left. Or correction, since Stiles hasn’t been able to visibly leave from his life.  “Um,” he delays trying to get his mind on track. 

The sheriff’s face immediately crinkles into concern. “She say no?” he asks softly. Derek finally focuses onto his proposal to Braeden.  The sheriff was one of the few people he had actually talked to about it.      

“No,” Derek responds quickly. “No.  She said yes.”  He smiles faintly at the memory. 

The sheriff smiles widely.  “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Derek says smiling back at him, but it’s almost forced.  He can’t believe he hasn’t thought about Braeden in two days.  Or called her.  He recalls his argument with Stiles about love and quickly shuts down that line of thought. 

The smile fades from the Sheriff’s face, and it morphs into his more thoughtful expression.  “Congratulations are in order, aren’t they son?”

The trouble with being friends with police officers was that they were way too observant for their own good.  Derek nods.  “Yes. Of course.” 

The sheriff sighs.  “I don’t want to see anyone’s hearts broken, son.” He says quietly.

“It’s –“ Derek pauses as he searches for the right word and exhales deeply.  “It’s just been a weird couple of days.  Family stuff.”

“They don’t approve? I like Braeden. She’s got a good head on her shoulder.”

“They’re happy for me,” Derek explains, which is true. They’re glad he’s happy, but they all wish they had a chance to meet her first.  “Except for one.  And he’s not technically even family, so it shouldn’t even matter.”

The sheriff stands there, obviously accessing him. Derek stands stone still, resisting the urge the turn and walk away. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re back Chief Deputy Hale. Why don’t we head back to my office, and I’ll catch you up on what you’ve missed.”  The sheriff finally says, transitioning to work mode.

Derek nods.  “Yes, sir.”  He follows the sheriff to his office, ready to have work occupy his mind.  

* * *

**Stiles**

It’s over a week later, and Stiles is still stuck in Derek’s apartment.  It’s not like he isn’t enjoying it, trust him he is.  Between the food, the plethora of TV Shows he’s been binge watching (and who knew, TV is teaching Stiles a ton about human nature), and actually getting to spend face time with Derek, it’s pretty much a dream come true, and he can’t even feel guilty about it.  He gets to spend time with Derek just like they did when they were, or just Derek was young. Stiles has always felt like he has known Derek, and not being able to interact with him hasn’t changed that, but it’s different now. 

All they’ve been doing when they’re together is talking.  Either comparing notes on Derek’s past or actually getting a look at the things in his head that is harder to figure out through observation.  Like Derek loves wolves.  A lot.  And sure, Stiles has seen him watch a documentary or two on the animals and knows he’s donated money to some wolfy wilderness charity, but he wasn’t expecting Derek to remember every little tidbit he’s ever heard or read.  Stiles tried not to laugh as Derek ended up in a monologue on how magnificent the creatures were.  When Stiles pointed out he was making Indy jealous, Derek slid to the ground to give Indy some love and explained that dogs were superb creatures from how they were descended from wolves.  It was adorable.  

They don’t bring up any events around revolving around Paige or her death. 

But, he has been stuck in Derek’s loft for nine full days.  He’s goes outside maybe twice a day, and Indy refuses to be pulled beyond the block of the apartment building. Stiles has tried. In theory, Stiles could just go outside by himself, but, if he’s going to be honest, the idea kinda scares him a little.  Sure, he’s explored the world before, but people can see him now.  Interact with him.  The only humans he’s ever interacted with is Derek, and the less of five minutes of clumsy conversation with Trish.  He likes sticking with Indy when he’s outside. 

Stiles is used to be able to go where ever he wants, more or less.  He never leaves Derek’s side for very long, but that doesn’t mean over the past fifteen years he hasn’t flown all over Earth, seeing the sights and watching the people. Plus, as he became more and more certified in his Guardian Angel status, he’s been allowed more and more places in Heaven.  To be confined to a box without any possibility of spreading his wings and flying is driving him crazy.

He knows that being here was not expected for Derek, so he tries so very hard to follow his rules of not touching anything in the loft, but it just gets harder and harder every day.  It’s like an itch underneath the skin humming away, and it’s getting harder and harder to repress.  He knows Derek, but to physically be capable of touching things and looking him from a different perspective is hard to resist.  For some reason he can’t even fathom, he wants to go through Derek’s closet.  He wants to run his hands over his soft looking shirts.  Maybe wear one himself.  Or rub his face in one. Weird urges, he knows, but it doesn’t make them any easier to resist. 

Derek doesn’t work until tomorrow and is reading the newspaper at the island by the kitchenette.  Stiles is spread out over the beat-up couch with Indy lying with his head on Stiles’ chest.  Stiles scratches behind Indy’s ears almost unconsciously. 

“Deeeereeek,” Stiles whines. 

“No, Stiles,” Derek says, his eyes not even pausing as they dart across the line he is reading.

“But –“

“No.” Derek responds flatly, this time turning the page. 

Stiles huffs and continues to pet Indy. He bites his lip in thought.

“Hey, Derek?”  Stiles asks a few minutes later. 

Derek looks up from his newspaper this time, and actually brings her glance over to Stiles.  “Yeah?” he asks cautiously.

“You remember when Indy, here,” Stiles flops Indy’s ears lovingly, “was a puppy.  Like when you first got him?  And he was so small and adorable?”

Derek nods and Stiles continues. “He had so much energy and wasn’t trained yet.  I bet you and Braeden had a lot of fun during that time.”

Derek narrows his eyes, and consequently his eyebrows, at Stiles, creating and angry V on his forehead.  It reminds Stiles of a cartoon character.

“Well,” Stiles continues on, petting Indy more energetically now, hoping Indy will take on some of that energy. “I remember this one time when you and Braeden went out to dinner.  Thai or something.  I don’t really remember, but that’s not the point.  You came back, and – and this is like _right_ after you guys adopted Indy, here -“

“Stiles,” Derek growls out in warning.

Stiles smiles in response and continues on in his story.  “And he had completely trashed you apartment.  Like Godzilla style. He had gotten into the trashcan, and there was nasty food everywhere.  I’m think he had decided to start his toy collection with the leather couch you guys had, right?  There was foam and stuff everyone.”

“Stiles,” Derek repeats shortly. “What’s your point?”

“It would really suck if you had to go through it again, wouldn’t it?” Stiles asks innocently.

Derek’s glare turns stone cold. “What are you implying?”

Stiles sits up straight and stops petting Indy all together.  “That you don’t want me cooped up here any longer.” He says seriously. 

“Then maybe you should just go home.

The pent up energy bristles underneath Stiles’ skin at Derek’s tone. “I’ve tried,” Stiles grinds out. “I don’t know why it’s not working, but it’s not, and no one’s tried to contact me.  I’m doing all that I can.”   It’s more than common frustration that’s sparking Stiles’ feelings. He feels his wings involuntary spread out due to his emotions.  The longer he sits there, the more he picks apart Derek’s words, and his anger starts morphing into hurt.  Trying to keep control of the situation Stiles says flatly “But you obviously don’t want me here. So I can go.  I’ll stay out of your way.”

The panicked feeling of not being wanted by Derek at all courses through his veins for a second or two until Derek leans back in his chair and sighs deeply.  “That’s not what I meant, Stiles.”

Stiles takes a few deep breaths, trying to get his emotions in order.  “Isn’t it though?” he asks Derek quietly.

Stiles hears more than sees Derek push his chair away from the island and join Stiles on the sofa. 

“No, it’s not,” Derek replies in hushed tones. “I just don’t take too kindly to being threatened in my own home, okay?”

Stiles’ stomach drops in guilt. “I wasn’t trying to _threaten_ you.” Stiles says stubbornly.

Derek snorts.  “Yeah, you were.”

“Not, really,” Stiles persists. “I mean.  It’s true!  I’m going crazy here.  It’s taking ALL my will power not to reach out and touch everything, you have no idea. I’m pretty sure if you keep me locked up in this room of yours I will literally combust.  Or give into temptation, and once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

Derek looks at him seriously, and Stiles lets him. “I’m doing all I can not to fuck up your life, Derek.  I swear. But this isn’t working. Maybe if I get out something helpful will come along.  Besides, no one can see my wings.  It’ll be fine.”

“How am I supposed to explain you?” Derek finally asks.

Stiles’ nose scrunches up in confusion “What do you mean _explain_ me?”

“What am I supposed to tell people, Stiles? Beacon Hills is a small town. They’re going to realize that you’re staying with me.”

Stiles blinks at him.  “So?”

A low, annoyed sound escapes from Derek’s throat and he runs his fingers through his hair.  “I’m a bisexual man whose girl, I mean fiancé is out of town for months at end and have another man staying with me.  That isn’t one of my friends that I’ve mentioned before.”

“Why would you start an affair with someone right after you’ve proposed?” Stiles asks.  “That doesn’t make any sense.  It’s not like proposing all of a sudden gives you sudden options that you didn’t have before.  If this wasn’t new it would make more sense, but –“

“Stiles,” Derek says exasperated. “That isn’t the point.”

“Oh, right.”  Stiles sits quietly for a few seconds, tapping his fingers against the arm of the couch.  “Telling them truth wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Derek snorts, and Stiles ignores him. “But maybe we could use some of it? Embellish it a bit. An old childhood friend. Um, ran into some trouble, has no where else to go.  Kinda desperate.” Derek winces.  “Okay, desperate is a bad word.” Stiles shrugs. “What else are you going to say?”

“But they’ve met Scott,” Derek says, explaining the problem.  “He’s visited a few times, and he doesn’t know you.  And you can’t be from college or San Francisco because Braeden doesn’t know you.”

Stiles’ fingers examine the texture of the couch as he thinks.  “But, Scott does know me. You talked about me to him. Before.”

“Right.  When we were eight, and he thought you were my imaginary best friend.”

“No,” Stiles counters.  “He thought I was your Guardian Angel because that’s what you told him.”

“What’s the difference?” Derek asks, annoyed.

“The difference is that Scott would believe the truth.” Derek raises his left eyebrow. “I mean it!  Scott believes things.  And even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t call you out on it.  Unless you started doing something stupid, he wouldn’t claim you were crazy.”

Derek shakes his head.  “And you think all that just because you’ve seen him when he hangs out with me?  No.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.  “No, I think that because I know his Guardian Angel. And I know that she’s had to intervene a few times.  And maybe Scott as just enough of a reason to believe in Guardian Angels.

Derek closes his eyes as he processes and slowly opens them as he speaks. “You’re saying Scott knows he has a Guardian Angel. 

Stiles shrugs. “He expects. Or something.  He knows there’s something else out there. All I’m saying is that he won’t write you off as a total nut job.”

Derek says silent as he thinks about it.

“You should call Braeden,” Stiles says. He isn’t sure if Derek’s talked to her at all since he’s arrived.  He should’ve, but Stiles doesn’t think he has.  “Tell her an old friend showed up.  Needs some help. Tell her we had a fight or I moved or something, if she asks why she hasn’t heard of me.  Call Scott. Just let him Know. No one in this town is going to question that you have a childhood friend.  Unless Scott leads them to believe other wise.”

Derek doesn’t even react to the last remark. “Fine.  I – Fine.”

He gets up and pulls out his cellphone, calling Braeden as he climbs the stairs to his bedroom. 

 

* * *

**Derek**

Derek talks to Braeden for close to an hour, trying to feel a little less guilty for ignoring her all week.  She asks a few questions about Stiles, but other than that she doesn’t appear concerned.  Derek ends the conversation by telling her to enjoy Chicago while she’s there. 

Scott is next.  Derek takes a deep breath as he selects Scott on his phone. Scott answers after a couple of rings. “Hey, man!  What’s up?”

Derek hesitates for a split second before he decides to cut to the chase.  “Do you remember Stiles?”

The other line remains silent for longer than Derek is comfortable with.  “Scott?” He prompts. 

“Yeah.  I’m still here.” Scott’s voice comes through the phone.  “Are you talking, like, the Stiles when we were eight or something? Post hospital Stiles.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, wondering if Scott will even say it.

“So like.”  Scott pauses.  “Guardian Angel Stiles?”

“You remember,” Derek states not feeling too surprised after his conversation with Stiles. 

“Yeah, man,” Scott breathes through the phone. “I remember.”

Derek mulls his words over because he continues. “What do you think?”

“Of your Guardian Angel?”

“Yeah

Scott is silent again, but this time Derek doesn’t prompt him this time.  He’s just as scared for the answer that he’s not sure that he actually wants it.

“Can I ask why?” Scott finally asks.

Derek shakes his head before verbally responding. “Not yet.”

“Fine,” Scott exhales.  “It sounds incredible?”

Derek rolls his eyes.  “Answer the question, Scott.”

“Look, Derek.” Scott says.  “If you were to tell me that you still believe you have a Guardian Angel than cool man.”

That was one step in the right direction. “What if it’s more than that?” Derek asks. 

“How much more?” Scott asks wearily.

He might as well go for broke at this point. “He’s sitting down stairs on my couch with Indy and other people can see him.”

“You’re sure other people can see him?”

“Positive.”

“Derek,” Scott hedges.

“What, Scott?”

Scott doesn’t respond.  Derek sighs.  “Look, I called you for a reason with this.  I want your honest opinion.”

“What makes you think he’s your Guardian Angel and not some random dude of the street pulling one over on you?”

“Many things. His wings, he looks exactly the same, he knows so much about me that it would be creepy if it was anyone else. It’s him Scott.”

“Okay.  Um, cool.” 

Derek laughs shakily.  That part had gone fine.  “Ready for part two?”

“Aw man,” Scott groans.  “There’s a part two?”

“He can’t leave and go back to his Guardian Angel Proper.  He’s stuck and visible and can’t fly.  I don’t know why and neither does he.  So, he’s staying with me.”

“Can I meet him?”

“What?” Derek asks, completely bewildered. That wasn’t where he thought that conversation was going. 

“I want to meet him.  Can I?

“Scott you’re still in Ohio.”

“So?  I want to meet him, and I haven’t seen you in a while either.  Maybe Kira and I will take a long weekend up Beacon Hills. Do the bed and breakfast thing, see you, see Stiles.  It’ll be good.”

“Sure.  Go for it.  Although, if things go well, he should be gone.

“Then, we’ll see you and still get our weekend.  It’ll be great!” Scott says enthusiastically. Derek has a feeling he’s already pulling up flights on his computer. 

“Sounds good, Scott.  Just let me know when.”

“I’ll give you a call,” Scott promises.

Derek goes to hang up and then hesitates. “Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a Guardian Angel?”

And for the third time that night, it falls silent on the other end.

“Yeah, Derek.  I think I do.”  Scott says softly.

Derek hangs up the phone and feels exhausted. 

* * *

 

Having Stiles around is. . .weird. There’s something that makes his heart beat louder when he’s near by.  Derek’s always acutely aware of his body.  And Stiles. His own breathing always seems unbearably loud when Stiles is sitting next too him.  And the hair on his arms always seem to stand up when he’s too close.  He can hear every sigh and deep breath that Stiles takes like its right into his ear, and he finds it harder and harder to drag his eyes away from Stiles’ lithe frame. Derek can’t tell if it’s because he’s always moving or if it’s some weird angelic presence.  Sometimes, Derek wishes Stiles was capable of sleep. Part of him wonders what he’d look like actually still and completely at peace.  His heart stutters as he imagines it, somehow he conjurors up an image that’s even more angelic than he already his.   It’s one more thought that Derek tidies away to the back of his mind.  But, as the month wears on, it gets harder and harder to do.

For a dead man, Stiles is one of the most energetic people Derek knows.  The energy he has, probably due to the fact that he isn’t alive and doesn’t need sleep to function is one thing, but it’s really how much life he seems to have. He’s quick to get attached and develop a thorough and deep passion for things.  He picks up on Derek’s wolf obsession quickly.  After Derek showed him his laptop and created a user account for him, Stiles had downloaded tons of movies, created a slide show of pictures, and explained some of the books that Derek hadn’t had time to read yet. Derek can’t help but smile at how genuine Stiles’ passion for the wolves are. 

Stiles found the Marvel films on Netflix, and Derek takes him to the local comic store.  The next thing he knows, Stiles visits the store regularly and has formulated arguments about diversity and the better written characters or plots of the Marvel and D.C. universe.  Stiles becomes fascinated by Batman, the one without any superpowers and a decree against guns and most weapons.  Soon, Derek is giving Stiles Braeden’s university password to get onto JSTOR and find academic articles on Batman and Robin’s relationship.  That turns into a passion for equality, and how he doesn’t understand how attraction and love can be considered such a horrible thing in the world. Derek knows Stiles is aware that he’s interested in men, and it was a relief to hear that the angel had nothing against it, but as Derek watched Stiles, part of him started wonder if the angel had a sexual preference.  If it was even possible.  

* * *

 

Derek has had a bad morning.  One of those awful ones.  He overslept and missed his alarm, which he blames the late night Games of Throne marathon Stiles insisted on, didn’t eat breakfast, hit every red light on the way to work, forgot his wallet, and didn’t bring anything for lunch. He’s grumpy to say least. Not wanting to have to beg anyone for some money for lunch, he calls the rarely used landline at his apartment. He had it installed for emergencies.

“Um, hello?” Stiles asks when he answers the phone.

“Stiles,” Derek says, his voice tired.

“Oh, hey Derek!  You never call here.  Or me.”

“I know.  Look, I need you to bring my wallet to the station.  Bring Indy with you and you two will be fine.”

“Sure.  I can do that.  I think. Where’s your wallet?”

“Upstairs on the nightstand.  Everything should be in it.”

“Okay,” Derek can hear the echo of Stiles feet traveling up the steel circular staircase.  “What if I get lost?”

Derek rolls his eyes.  “You’re not going to get lost.  Isn’t that one of your built in features?”

“Normally, but it hasn’t been as strong lately. I almost got lost going to the library the other day.”

“What do you mean it’s not as strong?

“It’s like I said. It’s not as strong. So it’s weak, failing, almost gone. Get it? I found your wallet.”

“Fine.  Take Indy with you.  If you’re unsure, ask someone. It’s the police station, people should at least know the general direction.”

“Is it a long walk?” Stiles asks, his feet echoing again as he climbs back down the stairs. 

“It’ll probably be about an hour, but I should be able to give you guys a ride home.”

“Okay.  I’ll grab a water bottle for Indy.” 

“That’s fine,” Derek says.  “I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Wait!”  Derek pauses.  “How will you know when I get there?”

“What do you mean?  Just talk to the front desk.  I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

“What?” Stiles squeaks.  “You mean I have to go in?”

Derek pulls the phone away from his face and stares at it.  He brings it back to his ear. “Yes, Stiles.  You’re going to have to come in.”

“Uhhh,”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, okay.  I can do that.  No problem. Problemo.”

“You’ll do just fine,” Derek says dryly. “Bye Stiles.”

“Bye,” Stiles says, sounding miserable. Derek puts down his phone and stares at it.  It’s been such a weird morning.

“Hale!  You’re with me!”  The sheriff’s strict voice calls out.  Derek stands up and gets to work.  

* * *

 

They’re finally able to take a break when Stiles shows up.  He follows Tara to Derek’s desk, Indy’s leash tight in his hand. 

“Stiles,” Derek says abruptly, standing up. “You were supposed to be here hours ago. What happened? Are you alright?”

Stiles nods.  “Sorry, just got distracted,” His eyes dart behind Derek and then focuses on Indy.

Derek steps closer.  “Are you feeling alright?” he questions. 

“I’m fine, Derek.” Stiles answers, not looking up from Indy’s head.

Derek is ready to push it, but the sheriff calls out behind him.

“Who is this, Derek?”

Stiles freezes. 

Derek looks at him worriedly, and draws closer, putting his arm around Stiles’ shoulder for comfort.  “It’s alright.  He’s a good man.” He says into Stiles’ ear before he moves them forward.

“This is my friend, Stiles, who I was telling you about.  He’s one that’s staying with me.”

The sheriff has gone still too. Derek looks to him and back to Stiles, who is still looking at the dog. 

“Stiles,” the sheriff coughs, “That’s an interesting name.”

Stiles nods, not looking up.

“Where did you get it?” the sheriff asks, sounding strained.  Derek wonders what is going on.

“I’m not sure.” Stiles admits quietly. “My mom maybe.”  
  
“A nickname?”

Stiles nods again.

“You –“ The sheriff starts but falls silent. He doesn’t try again.

Indy breaks up some of the tension by whining and pulling towards the sheriff, who squats down to pat the dog. Stiles lets go of the leash.

“Are you going out for lunch, Deputy?” The sheriff asks, not looking up.

“Yeah.  Do you want to join us?” 

The sheriff looks up and glances at Stiles. “Maybe next time.” Derek nods.                                                                                                   

“Next time.”

He hurries Stiles and Indy out of there, wanting some sort of explanation.  He doesn’t miss how Stiles turns around to look at the sheriff before they leave.  

* * *

 

Derek slides into the booth at the diner and waits for the Stiles to do the same after he’s tied Indy under a tree outside. He opens his mouth to ask what had happened at the station, but shuts it as he looks at Stiles. Derek inhales sharply as he realizes how haunted Stiles looks.  He looks more human than Derek has ever seen him.  There are circles under his eyes and his lips are torn and raw.

Stiles is sagged into the seats and doesn’t even look at the menu.  Derek takes the liberty of calling the waitress over and ordering for the both of them. She brings a pot of coffee a few minutes later and fills up both of their cups.  Derek inhales the aroma, relishing the idea of the caffeine boosting his system.  He drinks it slowly.

Stiles is staring blankly at the table, his cup untouched. Derek softly nudges their feet together to get his attention.  Stiles jumps and looks up at Derek with wide eyes. Derek tries to calm him down with another soft nudge with his foot and is amused when Stiles cheeks start to get blotchy.  He glances down at Stiles’ coffee cup, and Stiles follows his glaze.  He gives a tight smile and claps it tight in his hands, but doesn’t drink.  Derek decides not to push and continues finish his own coffee. 

They sit in the silence for the rest of the meal. Derek stomach aches a little and he’s not sure if it’s because he ate too much too fast or because Stiles is being unnaturally quiet and it doesn’t bode well.  Derek’s heart lurches at the thought that maybe Stiles is sick and dying before he remembers that he’s already dead.  It doesn’t make him feel better. 

He nudges Stiles’ foot again, and Stiles looks up at him, bleary eyed. 

Derek thinks for a second, figuring out what he wants to ask about.  “What’s wrong?”

Stiles smiles weakly.  “Nothing to worry about.”

Derek frowns and then tries to provide some sort of comfort of touch through his foot.  “Of course I’m worried.”

Derek didn’t expect the words to have much affect on Stiles, but he almost flinches and tares his eyes away from Derek’s.  
  
“It’s not your job,” Stiles whispers. 

This time Derek is the one that flinches. He doesn’t like the implications of that sentence.  The thought of being just a job to Stiles makes him feel hollow.  Stiles was his best friend for years as a child, and he realizes that he is again.  It’s been just over two months since Stiles first reappeared in his life, and the thought of him disappearing again terrifies him. 

Stiles sighs when Derek flinches. “I didn’t mean it like that. You must know that.”

Derek nods, because rationally he does. From the stories Stiles told him, he could get into a lot of trouble for all the rules he broken for Derek. He wouldn’t have broken them if he didn’t care for Derek, but he can’t shake the scared hollow feeling in his gut that believes otherwise.  Derek doesn’t know how to say you’re more than a guardian angel to me too and have it sound sincere.

Instead, he reaches over the table and grabs Stiles’ hand, stilling it on the table, and squeezes.  Their eyes lock, and Derek tries convey that he cares. Stiles eyes drift to their clasped hands and his grip turns to tighten on Derek’s.  Stiles hangs onto it like a lifeline as he starts talking.

“I was never born, you know.  My mom died during childbirth, except I died before I was removed from her body.  When they pulled my body from her womb, my heart wasn’t beating.  I don’t know the medical specifics.  My human life was something I never focused on.  I never had it, and it’s hard to think on the things I could have had.  I had no interest in my father for a long time.   He would never be able to be a father for me.  My mom, though.”  Stiles pauses, his eyes glazing over as if all he’s seeing are his memories.  “He was her husband.  She loved him.  I think that was her biggest regret, leaving him so early.”

Derek tries to put himself in Stiles’ place, but can’t. He’s had his problems facing his family since Paige died, he knows this, but he can’t imagine not having his dad growing up and helping him shape his life.  He can’t imagine not watching down on him from heaven either.

“When I did go with her to see him or watch him, it was,” Stiles falters and and pain flickers across his features. “It was hard.  He was in mourning for a long time.  Mourning his wife that I took from him and a son he never had a chance to know.  I could always feel the pain he was in.  After we died, he took to drinking to ease that pain.  It’s one of those human things I’ve had trouble understanding. Very few people that fall into alcoholism are happier.  And it started to interfere with his job. If he had continued on that path, he wouldn’t have had anything to live for.”

Something clicks in Derek’s head. Pieces of the story sound too familiar. “Stiles, who is your father?”

Stiles looks up at Derek.  “I would have been born to Claudia and John Stilinski.”

Derek gapes at Stiles and remembers how John had paled when he saw Stiles.  They didn’t look remarkably alike, but Derek has seen pictures of Claudia in the sheriff’s office.  Stiles has her eyes and nose, and even though John didn’t raise Stiles, Derek can know recognize how similar they are in their mannerisms.  It almost makes him smile. 

“You’re name?”  Derek asks, recalling the long name that the sheriff had stumbled over during drinks after work. 

“Mom said he named me after her father.” He breaks into a small smile. “I’ve met him. I’m honored to be named after him, but I reached Heaven without a name.  My last name was Stilinski.  Somehow, Stiles stuck.”

They both sat quietly for a few minutes as Derek processed.  If Stiles had survived childbirth, he would have been born in Beacon Hills. Derek might have met him when he started working for his father.  If Derek’s remembering the dates right, they would’ve been around the same age. His heart thumps wildly at that possibility, but he ignores it.  It wasn’t their reality. 

“He’s a good man,” Derek said, trying to reassure Stiles.

Stiles shook his head.   “I know.  I’ve watched him with you.  You two have been good for each other.  It’s as if,” Stiles trails off and shakes his head.  Derek wonders if he thought of the same alternate reality he had. 

“I don’t want to cause him anymore pain,” Stiles admits, changing directions.  “The look on his face when he saw me.  It’s just not worth it.  He doesn’t need ghosts in his life.” 

“But you’re here,” Derek says, unconsciously rubbing Stiles skin with his thumb as if to remind himself.  “Maybe it would be good for both of you.”

Stiles lets out a hollow laugh. “Derek, I have no idea what’s happening to me.  I’m stuck here and completely visible except for my wings.  The only reason I even know I still have them is because we can both see them. I can barely feel them anymore, and I can’t fly.  Everything that I’ve worked up in my years as a Guardian Angel is either fading away or gone. I got _lost_ , Derek.  And I don’t know if it’s God’s fucked up way of telling me I’ve metaphorically got lost in my mission and role or if it’s some sort of punishment.  I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.  I can’t get to know him only to disappear or die again.”

Derek’s brain struggles heavily with two things Stiles said.   “Die again?” Derek croaks out.

Stiles runs his fingers through his hair, making it even more of a mess.  “I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.  Anything is possible at this point.” Derek’s grip on Stiles’ hand tightens even more, saying things he can’t. 

“Why do you think you got lost in your mission? Why would God be punishing you?” Derek asks, moving onto the next big question. 

Stiles stares at him then down to their hands and then back to Derek’s face.  “Don’t you know?” Stiles whispers.

Derek blinks in confusion. 

“I’m going to give Indy some company.” Stiles says, untangling himself from Derek and heading outside.

The waitress comes over with the check, and Derek stares at it, not seeing it.  He can feel the residue of Stiles’ body heat not only on his hand, but at his ankle. It’s only then that he realizes they had played footie during the entire conversation. 

Derek quickly shuts down his mind and puts down a wad of cash down on the table and heads out to take Stiles and Indy home

* * *

After Derek finishes working the late shift at work, he comes home to find Stiles asleep on the couch.  Derek stands shock still at the sight, not able to process why it’s a strange sight.  He’s too focused on Stiles’ face to think about it.  He’s never seen him that relaxed and utterly still before. There’s a grace to his features that disappears when he’s awake.  Derek follows the line of Stiles’ back, softly focuses on his curves when he realizes the awful position Stiles is sleeping in. 

Derek goes to adjust him, because sleeping like that would be awful for his back.  He can’t believe he’s even let Stiles sleep on the sofa for so long, and chides himself for being such a bad host.  Then, he remembers. Stiles _can’t_ sleep. 

“Stiles,” he says, his voice thick with worry. “Wake up!”  Derek shakes him on the shoulder. 

Stiles grunts and blearily opens his eyes. “Hmmm?”  He groans.

Derek squats down so he’s even with Stiles’ face. “Stiles, how long have you been able to sleep?” 

Stiles blinks at him, clearly confused. Comprehension dawns on his face, and suddenly he looks wide-awake. 

“Just the past week or so.  It’s no big deal, Derek.” 

Derek looks at him, his eyes wide in disbelief. “No big deal?”

“Nope.  It’s the smallest deal.  So tiny, it doesn’t matter.  Especially because I like sleep.” 

Derek decides he must still be half asleep. “When have you been sleeping?”

Stiles shrugs.  “At night mostly.  And when you’re at work.” 

Derek breathes out roughly and stands up, crossing his arms.  “You can’t sleep here.”

Stiles’ limbs flail underneath him as he tries to get up.  “Why not?”

“Because a couch isn’t the proper place to sleep. You can sleep with me,” Derek decides and starts to climb the stairs to his bed. 

“I – what?” Derek hears Stiles sputter behind him.

Derek turns around.  “It’s a king bed Stiles.  You deserve to sleep in a bed.  It’ll be fine.” 

Derek strips down to his boxers, and grabs an old shirt to sleep in before climbing into bed.  It was a long shift and almost seven in the morning, and he’s exhausted and just wants to sleep.

Stiles looks at him uncertainly at the stairs before pulling his jeans off and his plaid shirt, leaving him his boxers and a t-shirt. He slowly walks over to the bed and carefully climbs onto Braeden’s side. 

Briefly, Derek thinks it should be weirder than it is, Stiles sleeping where Braeden should, but he’s losing consciousness fast and the thought doesn’t matter much.  “Nigh’, Sties,” Derek yawns before falling to sleep.  

* * *

 

Derek wakes up a few hours later when Indy decides to join them on the bed.  He’s surprised at how warm and comfortable he is until he opens his eyes. His face is bent into the crook of Stiles’ neck, and he can just see over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ right leg is swung over Derek’s body, keeping him close.  Derek’s left hand is splayed over Stiles’ left back and underneath his t-shirt. It’s nice and warm, and Derek really likes how he smells.  In his sleep-addled phase, he buries his face deeper into Stiles’ neck and falls back to sleep, content. 

When he wakes up around lunchtime, it’s all but a dream; He doesn’t think it has anything to do with his exceptionally hard morning wood.  He takes a shower and takes care of business before heading downstairs to join Stiles for lunch.


	8. Allison

**Derek**

Derek, Stiles and Indy had just gotten back from a walk to and from the park where they had run into the sheriff. Stiles and the sheriff had made awkward, but scrutinizing conversation.  Derek had stayed mostly silent, happy to make them work it out themselves.   Stiles and the sheriff run into one another all the time since they first met. 

Stiles still doesn’t like to come down to the station, but Derek can always convince him to come down once he has an excuse. Watching from a distance, the sheriff and Stiles always stare at one another when the other isn’t looking. Derek can understand where Stiles was coming from when he said he should stay away from his dad, but something tells Derek that pushing the two of them together is the right thing to do; although, Derek doesn’t push too hard, but gives them the opportunity to be around each other. 

Even without Derek interfering, the sheriff and Stiles run into each other around town form a slow and tentative friendship, and it leaves Derek feeling oddly satisfied.  Since he met Stiles as a child, he’s never gone through a religion crisis, but never been particularly religious either.  He knows God exists, but hasn’t devoted his entire life to him or served him in a religious fashion.  But, somehow, seeing Stiles and the sheriff together in public makes him feel like God played a role and was pushing them together too.  Derek feels justified.  

Derek, Stiles and Indy trample into the loft. Indy immediately goes to his water bowl and gulps it down.  Stiles lays down next to the dog, and Derek heads to the kitchen to get two glasses of water.

As he fills up the glasses, he can hear Stiles laughing.  Derek turns around to see Indy with his head over Stiles, water dripping down his snout and all over Stiles’ face. 

“Stupid dog, you’re getting me wet,” Stiles says chuckling and reaching up to scratch behind Indy’s ears.  Indy’s mouth opens and breathes happily, letting more water drip down as he tail wags. 

Derek watches them fondly, the water glasses momentarily forgotten.  He stands transfixed by the water droplets caught in Stiles’ eyelashes and making their way down his face. 

Loud ringing jolts Derek back to reality. He walks over to Stiles and holds the glass just above his head.  Stiles takes it with a smile and moves to sit up.  Derek heads back over to the kitchen counter where he put his phone down. The name Scott flashes over the screen.

“Scott,” Derek greets, answering the phone.

“Derek!  We just bought a plane ticket!” 

“Really, now?” Derek asks dryly. This would be the fourth time Scott had planned to visit Beacon Hills since Derek’s call about Stiles. Between work and family emergencies, the mini-vacation kept getting postponed. 

“We leave tomorrow morning,” Scott says brightly, ignoring Derek’s sarcasm.  “We’re trying the impromptu vacation this time.”

“Considering you’ve been trying to do this for two months, I wouldn’t call it impromptu.” 

“The planning is,” Scott argues. “Is Stiles still there?”

Derek automatically looks over to said figure. He’s sitting crossed legged on the floor with Indy practically sitting in his lap.  His eyes shine bright and crinkled in the corner from smiling.

“He’s still here,”

“Sweet.  Looks like we’re not too late.  Want to get dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” Derek says, not really paying attention.

“Great, see you then!”  Scott says before he hangs up the phone. 

Derek continues to stand there for a few minutes just watching Stiles, the phone still held up to his ear.

Eventually, Stiles turns to Derek and smiles. “Who is on the phone?”

Derek pretends to finish up the conversation. “Sounds good.  See you then.  Bye.” He puts tosses the phone on the couch and moves to join two of his most favorite people on the floor. “Scott called. Said he and Kira will get in tomorrow.”

Derek watches as excitement flashes across Stiles’ face and then turns apprehensive.  He continues smiling, but now it looks forced.  “I would like to meet Scott in person.” 

“You’ve said that before.  What’s wrong?”

Stiles gives Indy a full body rub down, ignoring Derek’s question. 

“Stiles.”

“Allison will come with him.”

Derek blinks.  “I thought Allison was your friend?”

“She is!  And I miss her a lot, actually.  It’s weird not to see her, like at all.  But, what if she can help me?”

Derek’s mind goes blank for a second, forgetting that there’s even a problem that Stiles needs help with.

“That would be a good thing, right?” Derek croaks out, trying to ignore the despair settling deep in his gut at the thought of Stiles leaving.

“I don’t know if I want her help anymore,” Stiles whispers, looking Derek straight in the eye. 

Derek forgets how to breathe for a second and his heart feels too tight, too strong, but he doesn’t say anything. Reason and facts battle around in his mind too much, even though they’ve been getting easier and easier to ignore and forget, just not completely. 

Stiles turns away first and sighs before he gets up. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Derek nods absently, watching Stiles leave. Indy turns to Derek and whimpers. Derek kisses him on the head before he gets up, grabs his phone and heads up the stairs to his bed.

He calls Braeden.  Partly because they haven’t talked in a while – longer than it should be and partly because he feels like it will bury the guilt that’s building inside of him.  Guilt that he still refuses to acknowledge. 

Derek sits stiffly on the edge of his bed as the phone dials, and he waits for her to pick up. 

“What do you need?” Braeden greets.

“To hear your voice,”

Braeden laughs.  “It’s been a while, uh.” 

Derek can’t help but smile, forgetting some of the guilt already.  “We talk more when you’re out of the country.” 

“I know,” Braeden says.  “Sorry.  Things have been really busy.  The good kind, you know.”  
  
Derek nods, thinking of what has kept him busy lately. “My mom called the other day.”

“Wedding stuff?” 

“That and wanting to meet you.”

“Now’s not really the best time, Derek.”

“I told her that.”

“Unless you guys want to come visit me here.”

Derek wouldn’t mind seeing her in Chicago, but he doesn’t want to leave Stiles alone.  Plus, he remembers how life was in San Francisco when she was working right off an excavation like she this, she would be spending all her time at the museum or university.  Derek and his family would be lucky if they managed to schedule a lunch date with her.

“I don’t think I would see you anymore than we talk now.”

Derek hears her rustling with some papers and some quiet mumbling.  She must be talking to someone else.

“It’s true,” Braden responds.

Derek hesitates before saying, “I’ll just tell my family that we aren’t doing any wedding planning until you get back from Chicago. It’ll be easier that way. Maybe we can plan for them to visit a week or so after you get back.  Give us some time to get on our feet.”

“That sounds reasonable, but we’ll talk about it later? I have to go.”

“Okay,” Derek’s lips feel dry. “Love you.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Love you too,” Braeden responds before hanging up. 

Derek looks at his phone’s screen where the picture of Braeden is flashing, signaling the end of the call. He tells himself that it wasn’t a lie. It was true; he just hasn’t seen her in a while. 

* * *

Derek and Stiles pick Scott and Kira up at the airport. Derek doesn’t bother parking the car and going in, neither of them tends to travel with much and won’t be lugging any baggage around.  Instead, Derek and Stiles are sitting in a parking lot across the street from the airport, waiting for Scott’s text.  Stiles hasn’t stopped fidgeting since they left Beacon Hills.

Derek reaches over the consul and puts his large hand on Stiles’ bouncing leg, stilling it.  Stiles shoots a nervous glance down at his leg and then back at Derek.  Derek gives him a pointed look, looking at where Stiles tapping on the window.  Stiles pulls his hand back like he had been burned.

Derek sighs.  He doesn’t want Allison to fix Stiles and take him away from him forever either, but he knows they can’t continue living as they have. This half life like it is temporary and permanent all at the same time.   He gently squeezes Stiles’ thigh and shoots him a small smile, hoping to reassure him. 

“Derek, I –“ Stiles starts, but Derek’s phone starts ringing. 

“Sorry,” Derek mutters quickly before grabbing the phone with his other hand and answers.  “Hey, Scott.”

Besides him, Stiles slouches back in his seat and worries his lip. 

“Hey, man!  We’ve landed and are almost outside now.  We are going to be standing outside of Terminal 2.”

“We’ll be right there,” Derek tells Scott before he hangs up.   “You ready for this, Stiles?” His voice thick with worry.  The anxiety for Stiles hits him hard and all at once now that Scott’s actually here.

“Yeah,” Stiles replies hoarsely.

Derek nods and starts the car. 

* * *

 

 Derek spots Scott and Kira easily; they are the two of five people standing outside the terminal and both wearing extremely large backpacks.  Derek bites back a question about Allison to Stiles; maybe they can at least get back to Beacon Hills before everything falls apart.

Kira takes Scott’s backpack and goes to Derek’s trunk, as Scott stands grinning at the passenger door.  “This is where we get out,” Derek informs Stiles as he puts the car in park and exits the car. 

Derek carefully avoids the incoming traffic as he walks around the car and to the sidewalk and greets Scott with a hug.

“It’s good to see you,” Derek tells him.

“You, too!” Scott replies as he steps back. He runs his eyes up Derek’s frame and tilts his head, confused.  “You’ve gotten smaller.” 

Derek raises his left eyebrow. “I shrunk?” 

Scott looks like he’s still trying to figure it out, himself.  “You’re not shorter, but you’ve –“

“You’re leaner!”  Kira says coming around to give Derek a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It looks good on you. You look happy.”

Derek smiles.  “Thanks.  You guys look good too.” 

Scott grins and fixates his eyes on his girlfriend. “Yeah, she does.”

Kira rolls her eyes, but smiles anyway. “What’s with the new look Derek? Did you give up on your weight lifting routine?” 

Derek thinks about how he hasn’t purposely lifted since before Stiles had shown up, and even before that he wasn’t working out as regularly as he used to.  The more of a life he made for himself in Beacon Hills, between friends and his job, the more his routines would get interrupted.  In the past few months, he almost relied entirely on his walks with Stiles and Indy. 

Without even realizing it, his eyes drift over to Stiles as he thinks about him.  He is standing up against the car, looking the most unsure Derek has ever seen him. Derek notices that his eyes are darting all around the place.  His stomach tightens when he thinks about Allison. 

Scott and Kira follow his glaze, and Scott’s jaw drops. “He’s real.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and crosses his arms in response.  “Of course I’m real, Scott. Haven’t you been listening to Derek?”

Scott walks closer to him in disbelief. “You look exactly like Derek described you as kids.  Except without the wings.”

Stiles flinches at the mention at his wings, and Derek has to restrain himself from going over to somehow protect him.

“But, it’s like really you.  I can’t believe I get to meet you,” Scott finishes and then embraces Stiles in a huge hug.  Stiles stands shock still for a moment, before he bursts out laughing and returning the hug. 

“I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known Derek,” Stiles says.  “But it’s great to meet you in the flesh.” 

Scott pulls back and looks ashamed with his eyes big and frown.  “You probably didn’t like me originally.  Derek and I –“

Stiles barks out another laugh. “Were archenemies? Allison and I had a running bet on a how long until you two got over yourselves and became friends. I dominated that bet! She thought it would happen sooner than it did.” 

“Allison?” Kira asked, stepping over to Scott and Stiles.  She looked at Scott. “You’ve never talked about an Allison.”

“Allison?  Like Derek’s Warrior Princess Allison?” Scott asks Stiles. Kira turns to Derek with a puzzled look on her face.  Derek holds his hand up and waits to see where this conversation will go.

Stiles nods.  “I modified her history a bit, but that’s Allison.”

“And she’s _mine_?”

Stiles nods again. 

Scott breaks into yet another smile and looks around wildly.  “So, she’s here? Where is she?”

Stiles shakes his head.  “I don’t know.”  He looks at Derek.  “I can’t see her.”

Derek can’t help the smile that comes to his face as the knots in his stomach loosen until they disappear completely. 

* * *

 

 Stiles relaxes on the way home and tells childhood stories about Derek and Scott.  Derek and Scott argue on a couple of points, but most are accurate. Kira doesn’t stop laughing the entire drive back to Beacon Hills, and Stiles doesn’t stop smiling either.

After Scott and Kira get settled in at their bed and breakfast, Derek takes everyone out to the nice steak house in town. The food is amazing and they all cleaned up very nicely.  Extremely nicely, in Stiles’ case.  The fitted navy blue trousers and white collared shirt makes him look like someone Derek would see in a magazine, and Derek has trouble tearing his eyes off Stiles’ frame all evening. 

However, the most fancy restaurant in Beacon Hills might have been a mistake for a dinner that consists of both Scott and Stiles, but in Derek’s defense, he did not think the two would get along as well as they did or revert to sixteen year olds.  Maybe even eight year olds. 

It didn’t annoy Derek, and he didn’t think it annoyed Kira either.  They both enjoyed the meal and either spent the time trying not to laugh hilariously or roll their eyes at Scott and Stiles.  Scott and Stiles, on the other hand were both loud and large in their actions. Every once and awhile they would get really excited about something and their voices increase to yelling range. They attracted the attention of the entire restaurant.  At the end of the meal, Derek left an extremely generous tip.  Next time, Derek thinks, he’s taking everyone to the dinner at a diner.  Or maybe a picnic at the park. 

* * *

Derek and Stiles spend the rest of the weekend with Scott and Kira, carefully making sure they had some alone time for the romantic part of their weekend.  They all spend their time together mostly hiking through the forest and swimming at the lake. When Derek has his midday shift on Sunday, Scott and Stiles go off by themselves.  He and Kira have no idea what they did, but when he meets them for dinner they’re calling themselves brothers from another mother. 

Derek shoots Kira wide eyes as he sits down next to Stiles.

“They’ve been like that since I got back from the gym,” Kira explains, watching her boyfriend and Stiles with amusement, “which is awesome, by the way!  It has a surprisingly wide range of combat classes and excellent teachers.”

“Braeden really liked.  Likes,” Derek says, frowning as he corrects himself, “It. She really likes Victoria, I think?”

Kira nods.  “That’s who I had.  She was really intense, but it was obvious that she knew what she was talking about.” Kira paused and took a sip of her water before she looked back at Derek, biting her lip.

“What?”

“How is Braeden?”

“She’s good.  Really liking the research, which isn’t a surprise.”

“I know that.” Kira said under her breath. She cleared her throat. “How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Oh,” Derek said, having a feeling what Kira was trying to get at.  “We decided not to plan that until she gets back.  It’s less complicated that way, plus she’s really busy and doesn’t have time to worry about wedding details.”

“Do you think you’ll elope?” 

Derek pauses.  He has always imagined standard wedding for himself and his partner. A time to celebrate and hi bring family back into his life, but that idea conflicts with the image of Braeden in white wedding gown.  Eloping sounds just right Braeden’s alley.  “I don’t know,” Derek says slowly. 

Derek sees the way her eyes flicker to Stiles, and tries to restrain himself from looking.  He succeeds, mostly.   
  
“Any idea on the wedding date?”

Derek shakes his head, and Kira nods in response. That’s when Derek notices that she’s wringing her hands.   
  
“Why?” He asks her.

“Oh, well.” Kira hesitates and then takes her right hand away from her left.  She wasn’t wringing her hands; she was twisting a ring on her left hand. On her ring finger.

“He asked me last night.  We don’t want to take your celebration away from you.”

Derek takes her hand, beaming in happiness for them. “I’m so happy for you.” He looks over at Scott, ignorant of their entire conversation.  “Both of you,” he says loudly, interrupting him. 

Scott turns around.  “Wha-?”  Oh.” Derek watches as he gets heart eyes and kisses Kira.  “Thanks, man.”

Stiles whacks Scott on the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you went through with it!”

Scott shrugs unapologetically. “We were going to tell you two together.”

“You’re going to be the prettiest bride,” Stiles tells Kira and reaches across the table to hug her, dragging his sleeve through the basket of French fries and ketchup on the table. 

Kira laughs and stays clear of his arm as she returns his hug. 

“This calls for a bottle of champagne,” Derek says.

“After dinner, I’m starving,” Scott disagrees, opening the menu.   
  
“Curly fries are much better than alcohol,” Stiles agrees.

Derek has no argument to food first. They get a bottle at the liquor store and celebrate Scott and Kira’s engagement on the roof of his apartment; all of them as happy and bubbly as the champagne.  Scott and Kira obviously even more in love than before. Derek tries to ignore how he feels happier now than he did on the night of his and Braeden’s engagement.

* * *

 Derek and Stiles avoid the topic of Allison until Scott and Kira left and their lives resettled back into their old routine. 

It’s late Tuesday night, and they’re both sprawled across the sofa after watching How to Get Away with Murder. Derek switches off the television, but neither one moves.  Derek’s telling himself he has to get up in the morning for work when Stiles speaks.

“I wasn’t able to see Allison.”

Derek grabs a hold of Stiles’ ankle that’s lying haphazardly across his leg, as if speaking of the angels will make Stiles disappear.

Derek clears his throat.  “What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know anything anymore.  I don’t know what to do.”

Derek rubs his thumb over Stiles’ anklebone, enjoying the smooth skin underneath his flesh.  “You’ll always have a home here.”

Stiles sits up, his ankle falling off Derek’s lap. “What about Braeden?” Stiles asks, his eyes weary. 

Derek doesn’t reply.

“You should get to bed.  You have an early shift tomorrow.  I’m going to sleep down here tonight,” Stiles finally says, not looking at him.  Derek nods and gets up. He pauses at the top of the stairs and looks down on his angel.  He swallows his fears and crawls into bed, hoping sleep will make him forget everything.


	9. The Decision

**Derek**

Things are tense for the following week as they wait for the shoe to drop.  They keep expecting some to come and whisk Stiles away..  When they do manage to forget about their worries and actually enjoy each other’s company, a different tension arises; one that leaves Derek’s heart thumping, his breathing shallow, and his cheeks red.  They often end with a muttering of Braeden from either Derek or Stiles, and swooping of disappointment in Derek’s belly.

So, when Derek leaves for work on Thursday, and Stiles doesn’t talk or smile during breakfast, not even once, Derek doesn’t think too much about it.  They’ve been haunted by the thought of angels for almost a week, and Derek figures this is the same thing, and rushes off to work.   

Derek spends the day out on patrol with Parrish. He is surprised to hear that the sheriff had taken the day off.  It’s odd because the sheriff doesn’t take a lot of personal days, and works a lot. He never even brought it up, but Derek has other things on his mind and doesn’t dwell on the oddity too much. He picks up a rotisserie chicken, a premixed salad, and some rolls for dinner from the grocery store and then heads home.

Stiles is gone.  Missing.  Disappeared. He’s not in the apartment anywhere, and Derek knows he wouldn’t play such a cruel trick.  It’s not like he was never there either.  There’s clear signs scattered across the apartment that Stiles had been living there.  His red hoodie’s on the couch, a chocolate brownie pop tart half eaten on the counter. Indy’s toys are everywhere, because Stiles likes to play with them, but never puts them away.

That’s when Derek realizes that Indy is missing too. Derek knows Indy loves Stiles, but she wouldn’t just leave or run away.  Unless Stiles was in trouble.  Derek digs his fingers into his eyes as he tried to think, adding up everything he saw earlier, hoping there would be some clues. 

Derek thinks of the hot summer weather, the amount of children he saw in swim suits and the fact the sheriff wasn’t at the office.  Derek feels like slamming his head against the fridge.  It’s, July 21, the death day.  The one-day the sheriff stays home from work without a peep.  The day his wife and son died.  Derek grabs his keys and heads back down to his car, only to return for the food. They probably haven’t eaten all day. 

* * *

Derek knocks fiercely on the Stilinski’s front door, and a tear streaked Stiles opens it minutes later. 

“Oh, thank god,” Derek breathes out and tugs him close to his body in a hug.  Stiles goes willingly and buries his face into Derek’s chest.  Derek continues to hold him close, thanking God they have more time. 

Stiles pulls away first, his eyes red, and Derek feels a wet patch of fresh tears on his shirt.  Stiles takes his hand and leads him into the house, and Derek follows without complaint.  They arrive in the kitchen where the sheriff is sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey in his hand.  Indy’s head is sitting in his lap, looking at John with sad puppy dog eyes. She glances over at Derek and Stiles when they come in and whimpers before looking back at John. John puts the glass down and comforts Indy by patting her head. 

“She knows he’s sad,” Stiles whispers in front of him.

“Hmmm,” Derek responds, not at all surprised. He steps closer to Stiles and gently places his hand on Stiles’ hip.  John wasn’t the only one who was sad.  Stiles leans back into Derek, relying on him to keep him standing. Derek’s grip on Stiles’ tightens.

John watches them wearily for a moment before he gets up and pours the drink down the kitchen sink.  He stands there, watching them again, and Derek starts to get nervous. 

“I brought dinner.  You two should eat,” he announces.  John narrows his eyes and then nods, moving to grab plates from the cabinet. 

“I’ll be right back,” Derek whispers into Stiles ears. Stiles weight on him gets heavier for a second before he squeezes Derek’s hand and straightens up to help John set the table.  Derek watches them for a moment, wondering what all passed between them that day.

He goes out to his car and retrieves the food, wishing that he had brought some dog food for Indy.  He knows that Stiles and John are just going to feed her their entire meal, especially with an excuse. 

When he gets back inside, the table is set and John and Stiles are sitting at the table.  Derek puts down the food and let’s John cut the chicken while he divvies up the rolls. 

Silently, they begin to eat.  The chicken is a little cold, but it won’t kill anyone. It’s an odd dinner where Derek can’t decide that it’s awkward or not.  He takes comfort from the foot and warm leg that continuously bumps into his during dinner.  He thinks it means that things are okay.  Derek watches as the Stilinskis not so covertly pass their food to Indy, but Derek is satisfied.  John finished his roll and ate half of the chicken breast on his plate. Stile had half a roll left, but had eaten most of his chicken. 

Derek and Stiles are collecting their plates and start putting things in the dishwasher when John clears his throat

They both pause and turn to him. It would be the first word he’s said since Derek’s arrived. 

“We are planning to visit the graveyard. I’ll drop Stiles off at your place afterwards.”

John glances down at Indy who is curled up at his feet. His features, which Derek is sure he has tried to keep stern and hard all night, soften when he looks down at her.

“She’s tired,” Derek tells him. “Why don’t I pick her up after work tomorrow?”

John takes a moment before he nods, relief shown in how his body relaxes. 

They finish cleaning the kitchen, and Derek softly tells Indy to watch over John before heading home.  He desperately wants to give Stiles a hug good-bye, but he and John had slipped further into another world right before he left.   

* * *

 

Sheriff brings Stiles home two hours later. Derek made Stiles a key a few weeks ago and expected Stiles to let himself in like usual.  Instead, he hears a knock on the door.  Derek opens it and finds John and Stiles on the other side. Stiles slips into the apartment silently, leaving Derek with John. 

“I don’t like this Derek,” John says quietly. The sheriff in him is coming out. He looks deadly serious, and unhappy with the situation.  Derek can still see the sadness lurking behind his eyes, but he’s moved beyond that.

“He’s my son, and something has to change.”

Derek’s mouth opens in surprise for a second at the recognition of Stiles as his son, but the sheriff crosses his arms. Derek will have to ask Stiles about that later.  “I don’t understand.”

John regards Derek and then reaches out to grip his shoulder.  “Yes, you do. Derek you’ve been –“ He stops and looks beyond Derek’s shoulder.  At Stiles, Derek supposes.  “I want you to be happy.  You deserve to be happy. All three of you do.”

Derek turns his head at the mention of three. Indy is his first thought, but then the pieces start to come together.  Braeden. 

“I expect you to do what’s right by my son. You have a choice to make, and it’s yours alone.  Neither of them deserves to be strung along.”  John finishes, deadly serious.

Derek swallows.  He knows John could kill him and hide the body if he wanted to, but this is the first time that he actually felt like he would.  “I know,” he admits for the first time to anyone. Admitted the possibilities, the feelings. 

“I’m trusting you, Derek.”

John nods and turns around briskly, leaving. Derek rubs his hand over his scruff as closes the front door.  When he turns around, Stiles is leaning against the back of the couch, obviously not looking at him. His face is still red and blotchy, partially from crying, Derek figures, but also from blushing.

Derek feels like crying when he realizes it’s the first time that Stiles has ever been embarrassed by his dad. Maybe even by any parent.

Part of him thinks they should talk about it now.  Derek should make some confessions to Stiles and to himself, but he feels tired and drained. Maybe things will be easier in the morning. “I’m going to bed.  You tired?”

Stiles nods. They turn off the lights and head up stairs together. 

They do their nightly routine, and distantly Derek recognizes that it’s weird that they have one. Soon, the lights are off and they’re both in bed and ready for sleep.

“Stiles?” Derek asks. 

He gets a grunt in return.

“Did you tell your dad everything about being a guardian angel?”

Dere can hear Stiles moving around in bed. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.  In a way that probably didn’t make a lot of sense to him, but I told him.”

“No offense, but I’m surprised he believed you.” 

Stiles is quiet for a few seconds.  “I think if I told him any other day,” he explains slowly, “he wouldn’t have.”

The sheets rustle and Derek can feel Stiles shifting in the bed.  “I think he could sense my mom, and I’ve always weirded him out, you know.”

“You didn’t weird him out,” Derek says, reaching out in the dark to squeeze his hand, but he misses, unable to find Stiles in the dark. 

“Yeah, I did. I reminded him of myself, which is messed up.”

“It’s not messed up,” Derek tries, trying somehow to make him feel better. 

Stiles lets out a hollow laugh.  “I’m an angel stuck on Earth.  Of course, it’s messed up. _I’m_ messed up.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say.  I’m glad you are doesn’t sound the most comforting.  “I- I’m sorry, Stiles, but you’re not.  I promised.

Stiles doesn’t respond.

“I’m glad he believed you, Stiles. I’m glad you have him, and he has you,” Derek tries. 

There’s still no response, and Derek sighs heavily before turning over and going to sleep.

* * *

 

 Derek and Stiles don’t talk about John’s lecture to Derek. Not the next day or the next. When it hits Stiles’ three month mark, they go out to celebrate for pizza.  They get the real cheesey kind that Stiles likes to stuff his face with and choke on the cheese as he swallows.  Derek laughs when he knows Stiles isn’t actually in danger of suffocating. It’s a good night, although Derek misses the warm touch of Stiles’ foot between his or hand against his own. He hadn’t even realized how tactile they had been with each other, until Derek made a point to stop after John’s speech.

It’s not that he’s decided Stiles _isn’t_ an option, but he hasn’t figured out what to do. His heart and mind are battling it out, and it’s just easier to pretend that it’s not a thing and push it to the back of his mind.

It must be obvious to Stiles what Derek’s been doing. When they go to leave and go home, Stiles stops him.  He stills Derek’s hand from moving the car to drive by placing his own over it. The feeling of Stiles rushes over Derek, causing his stomach to go haywire.  It’s been less than a week since the death day, but that’s still too long to go without Stiles’ touch. 

“Can you drop me off at my dad’s?” Stiles asks him.

Derek raises his eyebrow, wondering where this is coming from. 

“I’m going to stay there for the night.”

Derek’s chest gets too tight. He nods and starts the car, driving to John’s house.  He should have known that it was too much for Stiles, sleeping in the same bed with Derek while he’s engaged to someone else, and yet, it hurts him more than it should. His chest just gets tighter and tighter as he drives and it takes all his effort not to let any tears fall from his eyes.  He hasn’t even made a decision, but he’s losing Stiles anyways. 

Derek pulls into the driveway, and sits tight, never even removing his hands from the steering wheel.  He’s afraid to move, afraid of what emotion will overcome him if he does.  But, Stiles doesn’t get out. Instead, he talks.

“We’ve never really talked about it. We haven’t talked about a lot of things. Some things are just forgotten into our weird and bizarre history with each other and others are unconsciously ignored. I think most are purposeful. When I became visible three months ago, I said you didn’t love Braeden.  I meant it then Derek, and I mean it now.  You don’t – you never.  If you loved Braeden, the months apart would be torturous.”  Derek’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t look at Stiles. He doesn’t dare.

“Then there’s what my dad said, and I wish I could tell you it’s stupid and all lies, but it’s not.  And I think, by now, even you know that and how much I lo-like you. It’s why I got so angry when you were engaged to Braeden.  I know you don’t – that I’m not.  It’s not that you’re not with me.  That’s never been a possibility, but you don’t love her.”

Stiles’ mouth opens and closes a few times before he continues.  “I’m sorry Paige died. I know you really loved her, and I’ve always wanted you to be happy.  I know you were happy with her.  I’m not saying you have to forget her or dishonor her memory, but you need to let yourself love again.  If it’s Braeden, then fine, but you don’t right now, and this marriage isn’t going to make either of you happy.”

Stiles falls silent, but Derek still doesn’t move. Eventually, Derek can hear Stiles undo his seatbelt open the car door, exit.  Right before he closes the door, Stiles whispers, “Like I’ve said, Derek. I’ll always be your angel. No matter what.”

Derek watches as Stiles makes his way to the front door and enter the house after John answers.  With shaking hands, Derek puts the car in reverse and back down the driveway. He makes it half a block before he has to pull over.  He can’t see with the tears falling down his cheeks.  

* * *

 

He gets home and decides to grab a bottle of beer when his phone rings.  Braeden. Derek lets out an exasperated laugh and goes to get comfortable on the couch. 

“Braeden.”

“Hey.”

There’s a pause before Braeden starts speaking again. “I have some bad news.”

“Oh?”  Derek asks without any real interest, mostly trying to figure out how this conversation will work. 

“I’m going to stay in Chicago longer than planned. I might even miss Thanksgiving.”

Derek blinks.  “Thanksgiving is still months away.  We haven’t even hit fall yet.”

“I know, I know.  But they’re giving me a chance to head a team and be in charge of the lab for a few sections.  You know how important that is to me, I don’t want to turn it down.” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

“I know.” 

Silence again and Derek wonders how they ever made it this far in a relationship. 

“So it means wedding stuff will be pushed back even further.  Maybe in two years? Maybe your family won’t feel the need to meet in Chicago.”

“Braeden,” Derek says in disbelief. Did she really think that it was a possibility?  Maybe if he hadn’t met Stiles. . .

“I know,” she answers, sounding tired and more honest than he’s really heard in a long time.  “I – I’m sorry Derek.  It’s not that I don’t love you –“

“You don’t love me enough,” Derek finishes for her. “I don’t love you enough either.”

Braeden chuckles.  “I guess so.  Our jobs always come first.  How did we let it get this far?”

Derek looks around the apartment. It had started off with them together, but slowly morphed into his own space, but she always had some where to put her shoes when she came back.  “It was comfortable,” he told her.  “Safe.”

“I never thought I wanted safe,” Braden whispers.

“You travel to countries, sometimes hostile for half of your job.  What about that makes you think you’re safe?”

“All in the open, right?”  she asks. 

“Sure.”

“There’s this co-worker of mine, and to get into things with her – I think I’d give up everything for her.  Including my job, if I needed too, but it’s everything I’ve ever worked for.”

“You’ll have to trust her,” Derek replies, thinking of Stiles. 

“I think I already do, that’s what scares me.” Braeden says.  They let the silence grow for awhile.  “So, anything going on between you and Stiles?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve had a couple of phone calls, and people have been concerned about us.  About you two."

“I never –“

“I know.  I know you wouldn’t.  But don’t lose him, Derek, especially because of me.”

Derek runs his finger along the rim of the beer bottle. “Thanks.  You too.  With her. Don’t miss your chance.”

“I won’t.” 

“Braeden?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay in contact, okay?”

“You too, Derek.  You too.” 

Derek hangs up his phone and chugs his beer in one go before heading up to bed.  The hard part was done. 

* * *

Derek calls John the next morning.  

“When can I pick Stiles up?”

He can hear John sigh and the scraping of wood, then footsteps.  Like he got up and left the kitchen.  “Listen, Derek. I’m not sure if that’s the best i-“

“I broke up with Braden,” Derek interrupts him.

For a moment, Derek hears nothing but John’s breath. “I’ll drop him off after lunch.” John’s voice drops in pitch.   “I’m trusting you, Derek.”

“I know, Sir.” Derek replies. He hangs up the phone and tries to relax enough to be honest.    

* * *

 

 Stiles trudges into the apartment a little after one. Derek’s cleaning his dishes.

“Hey,” Stiles says.  He doesn’t sit down, but stands awkwardly by the island. Derek narrows in on the overnight bag in his hands.  He’s not even sure when Stiles managed to get it to John’s.  “Dad said you wanted to talk.”

“Were you planning on coming back home at all?” Derek a little part of him starting to doubt everything, even though Stiles and John practically told him Stiles was in love with him. 

“This isn’t really my home is it? I mean, it can’t be,” Stiles replies, looking around the apartment. 

“What if I want it to be?” Derek asks after he dries his hands and walks closer to Stiles. 

“But Braeden –“

“I broke up with Braeden,” Derek states and swallows hard afterwards. 

Stiles stops moving, his awkward posture straightening. “What?”

“We broke up.  You were right.  I was pretending. We both were”

Derek’s heart sinks, as Stiles turns around, moving towards the front door.  “You’ll find someone, someday Derek.  You’ll find someone you love as much Paige, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“What if I have,” Derek manages out. Stiles stops.  “But I’m not sure it matters.”

Stiles slowly turns around, his face heavily crinkled in concern.  “Why would you say it doesn’t matter.” 

“Because I – I can’t.”  Derek says, struggling to continue as he resolve starts slipping. “I can’t do it again. I’m not supposed to.”

“Derek, what the hell are you talking about?"

“I don’t deserve you,” Derek manages out through his tears.  "I've never deserved you."  He struggles for breath as he thinks about that early morning all those years ago when his mom sat him down in the family room to tell him of Paige’s tragedy. He had felt wronged and betrayed and so guilty.

Stiles leads him over to the couch, and Derek gratefully sinks down onto the cushions. 

“How can you say that?”  Stiles whispers.  

“How can I deserve you?  Why do I deserve a guardian angel when others don’t?”

Stiles closes his eyes, his face tightening. “Is that all you see me as? A Guardian Angel?”

“No,” Derek whispers.  “You’re so much more than that, much more than I deserve.”

“You deserve to be happy and alive, Derek,” Stiles said, his voice shaking with anger.  “Don’t revert on me now.  College Derek didn’t not think highly of himself or of life.” 

“Just because I remembered how to live doesn’t mean I don’t think about how unfair it is.  Why do I have you, Stiles?  Why didn’t Paige? She a better person than I was. She should be here and not me.”

“I don’t know, Derek.  I’m not going to pretend to understand.  I don’t even know what the fuck is happening with me at the moment. I’ve been becoming more and more human every day.  It doesn’t make sense, and we both know life isn’t fucking fair.  Sometimes, people’s time is just up.  Call it mean to be or whatever bullshit you want.  But, Paige’s death had nothing to do with you. It was not your fault nor did you steal me from her.” 

“I just don’t understand,” Derek croaks out.

Stiles leans in towards him. “I don’t either. The world is one beautiful crazy mess. But tell me Derek, do you think I deserve to be happy?”

Derek nods, his forehead brushing against Stiles as he does. 

“Then trust me when I say you do too. You could let us both be happy, Derek. You just have to make the fucking decision.

“I don’t know if I can,” Derek says. Stiles leans back away from Derek, almost looking like he’s about to cry himself. 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles whispers before rearranging them, so Derek was crying into Stiles’ chest.  They sat there for a long time. Stiles whispering soft, encouraging phrases into his ear as he carded his fingers through Derek’s hair.

Derek cried all his emotions out, letting his brain think through everything.  Thinking of Paige always makes him feel horribly guilty, but hearing Stiles, an angel from Heaven who sees everything, confirm that it’s just an unfair world, helps him finally detach himself from the responsibility.   There was nothing he could’ve done. 

And for once, he finally _wants_ to stop feeling guilty.  Braeden reminded him how it was to live, but Derek just _wants_ with Stiles.  He wants so much, but he’s never let himself have it.  And for Stiles.  He wants Stiles happy, even if it meant him returning to Heaven. The look one Stiles face when he pulled away was devastating, and Stiles should always be happy and smiling. Always. 

The truth is that Derek made up his mind a long time ago. He has no intention of losing Stiles in his life; it just took him some time to figure out the full truth of those feelings and their reality. 

Derek releases a shaky breath and leans and rubs their noses together.  Cautiously, he brings a hand up to Stiles’ face, wiping away a few stray tears off his cheek.

“Derek,” Stiles murmurs. 

Derek closes his eyes and brushes their lips together. He can feel Stiles’ quick inhale of shock and his hands coming up to his waist and grabbing his shirt tightly. Then, to Derek’s great disappointment, Stiles pulls away, breathing heavily. 

“I don’t want your pity, Derek.”

Derek sits up straight and takes a couple of deep breaths.  Tries to take on his authority and not look like he had just been crying. 

He looks Stiles right in the eye. “It’s not pity, Stiles. It’s anything but pity. I love you and want you in my life. I can’t imagine it without you.”

Derke leans in for another kiss, but Stiles leans away.

“You just said you weren’t sure you could do this. I want this Derek, but I need to know you do too.”

“I do,” Derek assures him.

“And what about Paige?  What about this whole past hour?  It doesn’t just disappear.”

“I wanted too.  For the first time, you’ve made me want to forgive myself.”

“Just now?”

Derek nods. 

Stiles gets up and starts pacing. Indy perks up from her nap on the floor, watching him wearily.  He finally stops in front of Derek. 

“This just doesn’t happen in a moment, Derek. Almost ten years of guilt doesn’t just go away, as much as I want it to.  And I hate myself so much, right now, but I’m going to go out with Indy. I can’t – we can’t start anything. Not like this. Not right after you spent almost an hour crying on my shirt.  It doesn’t work like that.  This needs to be real.

Derek goes to argue that it is real, but Stiles is always getting Indy’s leash.  “And when you get back?” Derek asks, this tongue feeling too thick for his mouth.

Stiles glances back before he heads out the door. “Convince me.”

Derek jumps into action as soon as Stiles leaves. He’s made up his mind and isn’t going to waste any time.   He jumps in the shower, prepping for any possibilities.  He trims his beard and lays out his nice blank pants and bright blue dress shirt. Then he starts pulling things around the apartment to the island, and starts cooking. 


	10. The Impossible Fate

**Stiles**

When Stiles finally gets back, there’s a white folded piece of cardstock taped to the apartment’s door.  He opens up and inside in Derek’s fancy manuscript handwriting, that says Shower First.  

Stiles opens the door to a pitch black apartment. He goes to turn on the light switch, but it’s been taped over.  He scowls and unclips Indy’s leash.  He stumbles through the dark, bumping in to the side table and stubbing his toe before he makes his way up the stairs and into the shower.  When he gets out, the lights are on, and his one good outfit, the navy blue slacks and white dress shirt, is laid out on the bed. 

He recalls what he said to Derek before he left _Convince me_. And carefully gets dressed. His nerves are alight when he starts to walk down the stairs.

The lights are still off, but Derek’s lit candles. Stiles can’t help but think it’s a little cheesy, but Derek looks so nervous that Stiles smiles at him when reaches the main floor. 

Derek takes Stiles’ hand and leads him over to the kitchenette.  The island is covered in a black tablecloth and there’s steaming, hot chicken pasta on two plates. The center piece is a vase with a feather from Stiles’ wings placed in it.  Stiles knows immediately that it’s the one Derek kept after Stiles disappeared. The color of it duller than his wings are now, and is more rough around the edges.  There’s also an old wooden box next to the seat Derek slips into.

Stiles carefully sits in the other seat and with a look from Derek, begins eating.  It’s delicious, as Derek’s cooking always is.  Derek is a steak and potatos guy, but Stiles has found that chicken is his favorite meat, and that pasta is addicting.  He recognizes and appreciates the gesture.  Although, it doesn’t _prove_ anything, he reminds himself.  

Derek brings items out of the box as they eat, not saying a word and pushes them across the table.  Stiles knows what most of them are.  There’s an old crayon drawing of Stiles and Derek, labeled best friends, a drawing of Allison the Warrior Princess, labeled Stiles’ Heroine, and Derek’s copy of _Alanna_. Then there’s an in-school essay where Derek talks about loosing his best friend.  There’s a rough drawing of a man that looks remarkably like Stiles but he’s sans wings and nude.  Stiles swallows tightly when he puts that piece done.  The anatomy is scarily accurate.  A crumpled piece of paper that’s questions what love is and how real is relationship is with Paige.  A brochure for Beacon Hills.  A copy of partially written wedding vows.  Under lines and lines of scratched out pen, Stiles can still see the his name written partially in some spots were Braeden’s name is rewritten on top. Even reading them, they sound more about Stiles.  Marvel is crossed out and so is support and love since childhood.  The paper is dated over a month ago. 

Stiles carefully places everything down on the table, and finishes his meal.  Derek watches him carefully the entire time.  After Stiles has cleaned his plate, Derek gets up and gets down on one knee. Stiles thinks of his proposal to Braeden and his eyes widen in alarm.  He flails, trying to get up, but Derek puts his hand on his knee.

“Relax, and trust me,” Derek murmurs. Stiles stills, his heart beating nervously. 

“You told me to convince you. These are all things that I’ve kept, for reasons I’ve never been able to understand, but they all have you in common.  Sometimes my heart decides things before my mind is ready to process it.  You’re right, I’ve been feeling guilty about Paige for a long time, but I’ve wanted to forgive myself about it for at least the past two months. You were out of reach, but it’s always been at the back of my mind.”  Derek looks up at him, his stormy eyes brighter than Stiles has seen in a long time.

When Stiles doesn’t say anything, Derek continues. “Today was intense, but it wasn’t new. I think I just needed you. You’re why I wanted to move on from the past, and it’s the first time we’ve talked about it since the first day you were here.  I think I was crying just as much for the life I lead after Paiges’ death than from the guilt. I’ve wanted and needed to move on. And I have.  I don’t want to lose you Stiles, and I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to be with you.  Not now.  Not again. Not ever.”

Stiles licks his lips as he stands up and reaches down to pull Derek up from the floor.  He wants to say so many things, but his will power to say no to Derek has all but disappeared.  This time, he’s the one that leans forward and seeks out Derek’s lips.  

 

* * *

**Derek**

 

Derek sighs in relief and pushes himself as close to Stiles’ body as he can.  The kis is soft and gentle at first as they explore their bodies.  Derek’s left hand travels up Stile’s strong back, until he reaches the base of Stiles’ wings.  Derek has never touched his wings before, besides an occasional brush. Now, Derek allows himself to bury his hands into Stiles’ silky feathers, and Stiles let out a low and husky moan. 

Carefully, Derek slowly drags his hand down Stiles’ wings, lingering on each and every feather.  Stiles gasps and leans his forehead against Derek’s.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles moans.  Derek opens his eyes to see Stiles looking absolutely wrecked. His eyes are huge black pools, and Derek feels like they are going to swallow him whole. 

“Upstairs,” Derek orders, his voice lower than he thought it would be.  “We need to go upstairs.”

Derek isn’t sure in his lust-induced state, but he’s 90% sure that Stiles half flies them up the staircase and to the loft. Derek doesn’t remember walking, just the need to get closer to Stiles. 

Once up in the loft, they slowly strip one another down, pausing to take notice of every mark on their bodies. Stiles is dotted with birthmarks, or angel kisses as Stiles calls them.  Derek pays special attention to each one.  Stiles likes each muscle and pays attention to the scars he’s accumulated over his life. 

Stiles laughs when he reaches the one on Derek’s knee from falling of his bike. 

“I remember this one,” Stiles says as he mouths around it.  Derek looks down to Stiles on his knees and threads his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

Derek tries to sound annoyed as he says, “You could’ve have prevented it,” but it comes out too breathy to say anything. Stiles grins and moves further up Derek’s thigh. 

Stiles remarks, “You weren’t in danger of dying,” and then bites down on the meat of Derek’s thigh.  His cock twitches and his fingers tighten in Stiles’ hair.

Stiles smirk is dangerous as fuck, Derek decides as he tries to remember how to breathe as Stiles slowly drags his arms up Derek’s body.

“I’ve thought about this.  A lot,” Stiles murmurs right before he engulfs Derek’s cock with his hot, sinful mouth, and _sucks_.

Derek whimpers and hangs on tight for the ride, pulling Stiles hair.  He’s about to let go, but then feels Stiles’ moaning around his cock.  Instead, he keeps on his place on Stiles’ head and then reaches out to his wing’s with the other, grasping the feathers in the same direction.

Stiles looks up to him, his eyes look black and his lips especially pink and wet around his cock.  Stiles begins to move his whole body and he bobs around Derek’s cock, and Derek can’t remember how to hold on.  He starts thrusting into Stiles and both hands continuously travel back and forth through Stiles wings. 

Stiles pulls off with a chocked cry, cum spattering all over Derek’s legs.

Without his permission, Derek’s balls tighten and is cum runs down Stiles’ face and into his wings. 

Derek lowers himself to the floor and carefully licks his cum off Stiles’ face before giving him a chaste kiss.

“I want to do that again,” Stiles breathes out.

Derek smiles and softly traces his fingers across the tips of Stiles’ wings.  “The night’s still young.”

* * *

 

Derek wakes up the next morning to Stiles’ hair tickling his nose.  He can’t help but smile as looks down at Stiles’ face, resting peacefully against his chest. He leans down to place a kiss upon his forehead and laughs quietly at the mess of Stiles’ hair.  It looks like a bird tried to make a nest in it and was sticking up in every which way. 

Derek cards his fingers through it, carefully trying to detangle it, when he comes across dried cum in his hair, and just starts laughing.  Stiles shifts and head-butts into Derek’s chest.  “What’s so funny?”  He mutters.

“You have dried cum in your hair.”

Stiles groans and rolls away from Derek and both of them wince. 

“Ow,” Stiles groans.  “I think we have dried cum everywhere.”

“It sure as hell feels like it,” Derek agrees, carefully rubbing his hand on his raw stomach. 

Stiles turns his head around and his eyes slowly travel down Derek’s body. 

“What?” Derek grumbles, still wincing from the hair pulling. 

“I think this calls for a shower,” Stiles says, coyly running his hand across Derek’s chest. 

“Oh?”  Derek asks, interested. 

“Uh huh.  Maybe even together for extra scrubbing power.”

“If you need extra scrubbing power, you should grab a sponge.”

Stiles scowls and throws the sheets back. “Fine.  I’ll take one by myself.”

Derek watches his naked form cross across the bedroom. He travels up Stiles’ body from his firm legs and thighs to his pert little butt, his mole spattered back, and strong shoulders – there was something one with this picture.

“Stiles?” Derek croaks out. “Where are your wings? 

* * *

 

Two weeks ago, Stiles’ wings disappeared. For the final test, they pricked Stiles’ finger with a needle.  And he bled, meaning that somehow, someway, he was human.  Stiles decided to take it as a sign.  He didn’t think he was going anywhere anytime soon.  

Derek and John tried to adapt him to living as a full time human.  It was an easy transition after the past few months.  The body functions hit Stiles strongly.  He got tired and hungry very quickly.  John had him working at the Sheriff’s going through paper work. He wanted Stiles to go to school and move in with him.  The first was a problem, because they hadn’t yet decided how he was legally alive, and the Stiles flat out refused the second. 

It turns out John was expecting Stiles to continue to live with Derek.  He had congratulated both of them, and wished them to be happy.  He also insisted on family night dinners, which Derek and Stiles had no problems in participating in. 

They’re at the second family night dinner when the door bell rings.  Stiles and John are arguing about what type of foods they should be allowed to eat, so Derek gets up and answers the door. 

A young woman that looks exactly like one in the photographs across John’s house is standing in front of Derek. She has a warm smile, brown eyes, and the same button nose as Stiles.

“Hello, Derek.  It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“I –“ Derek pauses and then thinks about how his used to be an angel boyfriend is eating dinner.  Anything’s possible.  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Stilinski.” 

Her smile grows wider at her last name, but her eyes get a little sadder.  “I don’t know if I’m still that role.” 

Derek glances behind him into the house that hadn’t been touched since she was alive.  “I think you’ll always have that role.  Would you like to come in?”

She nods and they enter the house together. They stand quietly in the kitchen while the Stilinski men argue, just watching.  Stiles is the first one to notice. 

“Mom!”  He says, as he whips his head around, jumps up, and gives her a hug. She returns it ferociously. “I’m so happy for you, Stiles.” Derek can hear her whisper into Stiles’ ear.

He looks over to John.  He’s gotten up from the table and his face is white in shock. “Claudia?” He warbles out.

Stiles steps out of the way, and Claudia greets her husband.   John touches her first, like he doesn’t believe that she’s real before they join together for a kiss. After, they both start to break down, holding on to each other tightly as tears stream down their faces.

Stiles comes to stand next to Derek and reaches out to hold his hand.  Derek squeezes back.

When the tears stop running, Claudia gently pulls away with a laugh and wiping her face.  “What’s for dessert?” 

“Fruit,” Stiles replies. 

“With whip cream,” the Sheriff adds, glaring at his son. 

Stiles glances at his mother and nods.

So, they all sit down at the table and enjoy a Stilinski family dessert. 

* * *

 

They’ve been siting at the table and drinking for hours.  It was getting close to midnight when Claudia put a thick manila envelope on the table. 

“What’s this?” John asks, picking them.

“Paper work, mostly.”  Claudia replies.  “Identification.  Birth certificate.  Things like that, for Stiles.” 

Papers spill out of the folder and onto the table. John looks up at his wife with wide eyes.  “How did you get these?”  

Claudia puts her hand on John’s. “I’m only a messenger. It’s the only reason I’m allowed to be here.  They came from above.” She looks over to her son. “They’re legit, legally sorted and everything.  They have it so you never died.”

“Mom,” Stiles asks as he looks over his birth certificate.  “How? I mean why did this happen? I’m freaking alive.”

Claudia smiles, but Derek can see the tears starting to form again in her eyes.  “I don’t know exactly, but you have a second chance of life, and I’m so happy for you.”   She brings both her husband and her son’s hands together.  “Both of you. You finally get to know each other.” She turns to John. “I hated that you were so alone. It took you a long time to heal.” She turns to Derek. “I’m trusting you, Derek. Please, look after my boys for me.

Derek nods, unable to speak.  He just met this amazing women and now she’s disappearing.  He can’t imagine how John and Stiles are feeling.

“Claudia, you’re not leaving are you?” John asks her.

Claudia looks at the clock.  “I’m afraid I’m Cinderella tonight, John. My flesh appearance disappears at midnight.”

They all look at the clock.  They have three minutes left. 

Stiles gets up and tugs his mom up from the chair into an hug.  “I love you, mom. I’m going to miss you so much.” Claudia kisses his forehead. “I love you, too. I’ll be watching over you, okay. I want you to live as long as you can.”

Stiles nods is head and releases her. She looks at John and swallows then turns to Derek. 

“I’m glad they have you,” she says as she gives him a quick hug. “I know you’ll take care of each other. And don’t forget about your family, Derek.  You’ll miss them when they’re gone.”

Derek’s throat feels tight.  “It’s been a pleasure.”

Lastly, she turns to her husband and they wrap up in a passionate embrace. 

“I love you, so much,” John tells her.

“I know.” She says as she smiles.  “I love you too. You have to be strong.” John agrees and they stay wrapped in each other’s arms until the clock changes to midnight, and then she disappears. Fades away like she was never there. Stiles moves forward, supporting his father as he suffers the loss of his wife again. 

* * *

 

Less than a week later and not much has changed. Derek has called his family and bought plane tickets for him, Stiles and John to go out and see them. Being around Stiles and John and have them actually start acting like a family makes Derek realize how much he misses his family and how long it’s been since he’s been home. It’s going to be stressful, but good.  Another step to healing, as Stiles put it. His mother started crying with happiness when he told her he wanted to come home and that he wanted her to meet some people.  It’s going to be good.

Stiles has agreed to take the GRE, but he doesn’t want to go to college.  He wants to join the police force, although the sheriff argues he could do so much more. Derek stays out of the arguments and promises to support Stiles in whatever he decides to do.  Personally, he thinks it’s a great place for him. Stiles already knows how to look after people, he’s been doing it for all of Derek’s life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You're welcome to find me on twitter and tumblr! Live a happy fandom life.


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